A Wish to Disappear
by TripTwo
Summary: Lyudmila, the watching witch. Her nature is obfuscation. Those lured into her maze are tested for the worthiness to gaze at her true self. In order to defeat her, one must be prepared to separate truth from trickery.
1. Chapter 1

It felt good to fight, thought Kyoko. It felt good to stay in that pure moment of simple problems with simple solutions. Stab, dash, slash, stab. There, three minions down. A bear, a scorpion and a tapir. No fuss. No drama. No need for warcries, naming your moves or stupid people forcing you to do just that.

The thought of her mentor made her growl in anger and attack in a blurred flurry of jabs. Three more minions fell, perforated enough to kill them twice over. Everything was just a game to Mami, she thought as she stepped over the corpses. Mami didn't see how dangerous this life was, how magic and witches and death were ever so linked. She was too busy sugarcoating it all under playing the hero and announcing her "special moves".

The truth was that killing witches didn't really save anyone. So what if a witch's victims survived? They were the same people as before, still capable of harming themselves or people close to them. And even when not influenced like a witch, people were still capable of doing horrible things. People like her father-

The thought of her father's hanging corpse and the blood dripping from his hands made her scream even louder. Since the rest of the witch's minions were all tied up trying to hit her decoys she had nothing to fight, nothing to kill. The lull in the storm allowed the mental image in her head to grow more vivid. She could see the damp trail of tears from his eyes and the threads at the frayed end of the rope.

The whole family was still at home, she thought. No one would find the bodies until tomorrow. It wasn't too late to go back and join them. Continuing to live didn't make a difference anyway. The world would be a better place if we stayed together even in death.

But the wild, animal side of her that wanted to live was too strong. With a manic smile that flashed her canines, she dispelled her decoys. The witch's minions paused in a moment of confusion then swarmed toward her. A reckless move, but it was exactly what she needed to return to the purity of battle. Bad memories moved aside to make room for the dance of split-second strikes, feints and parries.

When the last minion fell, Kyoko was refreshed in spite of the cuts she received. Even the trickling of blood down her arm brought comfort, as if the grief was flowing out of her. It still wasn't enough, though. She was still on edge, her breaths were still quick and deep from the physical fight and the mental flight. Her thoughts refused to slow. A hysterical madness tickled her throat, trying to force out a giggle at the absurdity of needlessly risking death in order to cling to life.

But the human side of her was still conscious enough to sense that she was at the edge of her sanity. She knew that she needed to calm down before she fell over to the other side. With quivering arms, she drove her spear into the ground, piercing through a dead minion's corpse. Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a box of Rocky.

She spent all her focus into opening that box. Pull the cardboard tab and tear it out. Flip the cover back. Lift the foil pack out. Careful, don't drop it. Pinch it here and here. Pull it open. Make it drop back down in the box. Take one stick out. Put it in your mouth. Mmm, chocolate. Now chew. Don't stop. Keep chewing.

She stared into space as she finished the snack one stick at a time. Swallowing kept her throat too busy to laugh and the sweetness on her tongue was one of the few things that would always be good and true. Chocolate would never do anything to cause her pain (unlike that cursed strawberry flavor). Then, when the box was empty, she sighed and let it fall to the ground. After defeating this witch, she'd buy a whole crate of the stuff.

With a steady hand, she pulled her spear out of the ground and through the dead minion. Time to move on.

But before she left, the slightest curving of light around the impaled corpse caught her eye and was gone as fast as she could blink. Had she gone mad without knowing it? She poked the corpse again to make sure, paying closer attention this time.

Whew, still sane. There was definitely something here, a glamour around the minion that bent light and color to hide its true nature. It was the brand of magic she was all too familiar with, although she didn't see the use of applying it this way. With the tip of her spear, she prodded at enchantment and cut it off, curious as to what was underneath.

The minion was nothing like the bear it pretended to be. It was a spidery creature made mostly of humanlike flesh and limbs, as if two people were caught in an embrace and fused at the chest. Where heads and necks should be stood single giant eye instead. It wasn't as bizarre as some of things she had seen before, really.

Kyoko then looked at her surroundings, and wondered if the witch was hiding more. The zoo imagery of this maze could be something else. On the spot, she designed a spell that caused her soul gem to radiate an illusion-dispelling light. As soon as it shone, the maze around her showed its true colors. The terrain was completely made of notebook paper, clean gray with ruled parallel lines. The cage bars, trees, rocks and benches on the path were folded paper, like props in a diorama. The pile of dead minions was composed solely of flesh spiders rather than a menagerie of animals she and seen earlier.

The maze was too vast for everything to be illuminated, though. Her bubble of truth only reached roughly three spear lengths around her. A bit further than that, the illusions blurred or went off-color. In the distance, everything still looked like a zoo. While far from perfect, she sustained the glow and headed deeper into the maze, where more of the witch's minions came out to meet her.

This time, the witch's minions went berzerk as soon as they were illuminated under her light. With nothing left to hide, they threw themselves at her with a monstrous ferocity and knives held in all four hands. But what they had gained with their aggression was lost in their lack of organization. Each minion attacked Kyoko on its own and, head to head, no amount of knives were a match for a spear's reach. Their large, vulnerable eyes were easy targets without an illusion to cover them. This was how it should be, she thought to herself as they fell one by one. Strength and skill were the only things that mattered in a straight fight. Truth was power.

All this time, she had burdened herself with lies. Her decoys had only delayed her victories by drawing foes away from her spearhead. Believing her father was a good man in spite of what he had just done was tearing her apart. And wasn't it also her fault for looking up to him even before? For being so sure that she understood what he and other people thought and cared about? In truth, the only things she could ever be sure of was what she thought and felt. The only person she could rely on was herself.

The entrance to the witch's chamber was ahead of her now, a zoo building with a poster advertising the latest addition to the menagerie: the violet Japanese mouse, whatever that was. Kyoko looked behind her one last time, making sure that the only thing behind her was a trail of defeated minions. Then, she kicked the door open and went inside.

Like many witch's chambers, this one was much bigger than it looked like from the outside. It was all open ground, with the witch waiting for her at the center. The witch itself looked like one of those medieval watchtowers, three stories of stone blocks and a crown of crenellations. Its base was surrounded by a moat of rose bushes whose thorns extended so long they were more like sea urchins. On top of the tower stood a lone, blindfolded girl with a crossbow. She aimed down and fired.

At this distance, Kyoko's reflexes were good enough to sidestep the bolt. The projectile embedded itself into the paper ground and the light of her soul gem revealed it to be a pencil. The blindfolded girl held the bowstring and pulled it back with her bare hand. The string bit into her flesh and made her bleed, but the weapon was ready to fire again. She loaded another bolt and took aim without firing, perhaps waiting for her target to close the distance.

Kyoko stared at the girl and evaluated her options. There was no way forward except to run through the no man's land and up the tower. Old habits made her twitch, a fragment of the motion she did when summoning decoys. But decoys weren't possible in this situation because they couldn't replicate the truthbearing light of her soul gem. The real her would glow obviously than blending in. While she could turn the glow off, that would stop her from revealing the witch's illusions. And, as she had just learned, it was time live a new life to stick to the truth to matter what.

She charged forward, weaving randomly from side to side as the blindfolded girl rained bolts down from the tower. Only one shot managed to hit before she reached the moat, a pencil had embedded itself in her shoulder, but she didn't let that slow her down. To falter was to die. Speed made her a hard target and it was essential for what she had to do next. She pointed her spear at the edge of the rose-filled moat and used the weapon as a pole vault. When the angle was right, she made her spear extend and launch her upward, redirecting her momentum without losing much of it.

Her flight path was predictable. She was an easy target for any decent marksman and she expected to take another hit before she landed. But as luck would have it, the first shot missed and she managed to reach the top of her parabolic arc unharmed. Now, as she fell, she pointed her speartip towards the blindfolded girl and made it extend downward toward her target. The blindfolded girl flinched at the incoming attack and missed her second shot before being impaled on the spear. The crossbow fell to the ground. The maze began to blur and fade away.

Victory. Time to buy that Pocky. Two whole crates of- The glow of her soul gem revealed another illusion. The maze wasn't really disappearing. It was a trap! Kyoko turned her head around just in time to see a cloaked silhouette dashing toward her, dagger in hand. With no time to spin her weapon, she thrust the butt of her spear into the thing's gut. It staggered back, as surprised as she was. The maneuver gave her the breathing room to pivot and bring her spearhead to bear.

Now, fully exposed to the light of the soul gem, the cloaked shadow cowered with its back to the wall. Once again, it was dagger versus spear under the light of truth. There could be no other outcome. Kyoko thrust into the true witch, which didn't even bother to fight back. The maze dissipated for real.

And where the witch once stood, was a pair of grief seeds.

o o o

Two years ago.

"I wish I could just disappear," said Violet faster than she could think. "Whenever I wanted to, I mean," she added. Scary. Had she almost wished her non-existence?

"The contract is formed," said the not-quite-a-cat creature that called itself Kyuubey. It said something else, something about entropy, perhaps. But Violet barely heard it through the sudden pain that gripped her entire body.

It felt like her heart was being lifted in the air and forced to carry all her weight. She stood on tiptoe and reached out to try to grab something, anything. But her flailing only made the pain worse. Gravity pulled her down, stretching her veins to the point where they would surely snap. Every heartbeat was a burst of agony. All she could do was look up into the night sky, starless from the city's halo of light.

Then, it was all over. She was back on her feet and the pain was gone, replaced by lightness. At her chest, embraced between hands and heart, was her soul gem. She held it out in front of her and couldn't help but smile at the glow that mirrored her name. And as she stared into it, understanding flowed into her, carried by its soft light.

She focused her mind just so, exactly as the gem taught her, and triggered her transformation. For a brief moment, her clothes vanished and the evening breeze chilled her skin. Then, one by one, new garments appeared. Around her body, a short-sleeved indigo dress that only reached above the halfway point of her thighs. It had just the right snugness for her comfort. On each hand, a long glove in a lighter shade than her dress that stopped before the elbow. On her feet, a pair of low cut brown boots.

But despite all the skin exposed so far, the last element of the costume hid it all. A blue-gray hooded cloak with a white trim covered everything below her shoulders down to a spot slightly above the top of her boots. The hood was down, hanging over her back. At her front, the white edges of the cloth adhered to form a light seal. And around her neck, the silver cloak's clasp held her soul gem.

Under the cloak, a dagger hung from its sheath on the left side of her belt, its weight calling out to her palm. She answered it, reaching across her body to grip the weapon and drew it out to slash at an imaginary foe. At the same time, her cloak fluttered open as if blown by a gust of wind, clearing a path for the strike. There was no resistance at all. The blade was weightless. It was as if its edge parted the air itself.

On a whim, she tossed the dagger in the air and grabbed it by the blade with her thumb and forefinger. She wasn't afraid of cutting herself. It was as if she had practiced the maneuver every day of her life, as if the dagger was alive and spun to land perfectly between her fingers. Then, she flung the dagger towards the concrete wall beside the fire escape. The dagger spun twice before the blade embedded itself into the wall and vanished. Her hand moved automatically to the sheath and found that the weapon had returned. At the same time, her cloak fluttered to close up, reseal and cover her.

Cool!

She threw a few more daggers at the wall, varying her distance and angle to the target with short hops around the rooftop. In a short while, the slices on the wall combined to form a small depression. Her throwing arm didn't even have a hint of an ache.

It was only then when she noticed a more subtle type of magic on her. Her cloak didn't just feel warm. It felt like it protected her, like it was an infinitely strong barrier between her and the outside world. The only part of her that felt exposed was her head. Unless- She pulled the hood over her head and knew instantly that she was safe. With the hood up, she was unseen and unheard. She could still see herself and hear the noise of her breathing, but she knew that no one else would notice. It was a fact she believed is as surely as she could throw a dagger.

It was her wish, after all.

"It is good you are happy with your abilities," said Kyuubey. "Now you must hunt your first witch."

"Just tell me what I have to do," she replied, a hand already on her dagger.

o o o

Violet didn't bother to dispel her magical outfit when she left the building. With the hood up, she didn't have to explain herself to her parents or worry about a suspicious glance from the guard at front desk. It was a lot more fun, too. The couple that rode down with her in the elevator weren't embarrassed to say the naughtiest things to each other. She couldn't control her giggling as she watched, although Kyuubey didn't comment at all from his place on her shoulder.

But later, when she arrived at the busier side of town, she realized invisibility had disadvantages of its own. Strangers bumped into her a few times, which was quite lucky when she thought about it, because it warned her how much more dangerous it would be to cross the street. She briefly considered transforming back to normal while walking the streets, then changed her mind. It felt better to stay unseen. She just needed more practice.

As she navigated the city, she began to formulate a few simple rules. Stick to the sides and walk through the gaps before they close. Don't be afraid to push through if there's no path in a crowd, at least you won't get knocked down. Stay close behind to someone moving at your speed and use him or her as a shield. The spot behind couples holding hands is quite safe. Avoid dense crowds, they'll try to fill up the blank space you occupy.

All the while, Kyuubey coached her on how to track the witch. Sensing the trail was the easy part, really. It was as simple as following a trail of breadcrumbs. The tricky part was when the trail lead right through a wall or went straight up to the sky. All she could do then was to guess the direction the witch travelled and hope to find the trail's continuation. If mistaken, there was nothing else to do but double back and guess again.

After almost an hour of following the meandering route, Violet stopped in her tracks. She had just picked out her name in the murmur of the crowd.

"What is it, Violet?" asked Kyuubey.

She didn't answer. Instead, she circled in place, looking for a face she would recognize. The witch's trail forgotten.

"Violet?" said Kyuubey again. "Violet?"

At last, she found the source. A bunch of her classmates were gathered together at the outdoor table of a cafe. She came closer and stifled a gasp when she heard her name mentioned again, forgetting her cloak muffled her sound.

"Whatever," said one of her classmates. "Violet deserves whatever trash grade she'll get if she doesn't pull her own weight."

"She really might have a good reason for bailing on us," said another classmate. "We'll ask her tomorrow."

Of course, thought Violet. She was supposed to meet them tonight and discuss their group project for literature class. The excitement of the contract and the witchhunt left no room for schoolwork in her head. But now that she remembered, shouldn't she appear to apologize at least?

"Violet," said Kyuubey. "We do not have time for this."

What would her classmates think if she appeared out of nowhere? What would she say if they asked for her excuse? And if she did appear, she couldn't just leave right away to continue tracking the witch. No, she'd have to leave this problem for tomorrow. The witch was more important.

"Sorry," she out loud to both Kyuubey and her classmates. The witch comes first.

She turned her back to the cafe and ran.

o o o

This wasn't a part of the city that never slept. At this hour, sidewalks carried few strangers, kept company by their shadows born from regularly spaced street lamps. Most shops were closed, covered by steel shutters and their signage unlit. Only the ones which boasted twenty-four hour service defied the night with blinding fluorescent light.

Violet made good time under these deserted conditions. Soon, she reached the end of the witch's trail: the wall between a luggage shop and a Chinese restaurant. On the brick, black cracks converged to a single point that sent a dose of vertigo if she looked too closely at it.

"Is that the witch?" she asked.

"Witches hide in spaces of their own making," explained Kyuubey. "That is only the entrance to its space, its maze. Your soul gem knows the spell you need to enter."

Violet gulped, feeling apprehensive for the first time that night. All the magic so far had been empowering, making her feel like she could do much, much more in this world. But here at the edge, she could tell that the forces in the witch's maze more than matched her own. She gripped her dagger unconsciously yet found no comfort.

"Are you ready, Violet?" asked Kyuubey.

Violet stretched her arm forward and cast the portal spell before fear could change her mind. The cracks at the wall flew toward her (or perhaps it was she who flew into the cracks). Then, nothing made sense anymore. Crisscrossed shadows filled the pebbled dirt ground even if there was nothing between it and the dim light above. The incessant sound of rustling leaves filled the air, despite the lack of the faintest breeze. Thickets of sharp wooden stakes thrice her height made the space a literal maze.

"Kyuubey," she said. "My cloak..." She felt naked. The cloak wasn't hiding her here, even if its hood was up.

"I see the problem," it replied. "It is trying to blend into the normal world, not the world where this witch lives. To hide effectively, you must to be consistent with your surroundings."

"But this is crazy!" she said out loud, her voice echoing in the warped acoustics instead of being muffled under the hood.

"Then you will just have to fight the witch with your daggers."

Only then did Violet notice that she was holding on to a drawn dagger, her knuckles white. The blade felt so small. She wished she had a sword. For a while, she stood there, paralyzed. It took the distant sound of a goat's "meh" to snap her out of her panicked trance.

"That is probably a witch's minion," advised Kyuubey. "It is coming to investigate, but we are not deep enough to get the witch's attention. Do not lose hope, Violet. You will still be quite difficult to spot even if your camouflage is imperfect. As long as you strike first or keep moving, you should have the advantage."

It didn't help. She didn't want to fight like this, with all the attention on her. She wanted to disappear. It was her wish, after all. And so, instead of preparing for battle, she concentrated on the crosshatched pattern of shadows on the ground and willed her cloak to match it. The feeling of protection began to return.

"I see," said Kyuubey. "I suppose this is one way you could fight."

Violet didn't reply. The shadow patterns were complex and difficult to match with her movements. What was left of her attention strained to listen for the sound of footsteps that began to get louder and louder. Then, when the sounds seemed to be right around the corner from a grove of stakes, she crouched down and watched. Her dagger was drawn, held inexpertly with two hands.

The creature that emerged was a goat, all right. It hopped around upright like a trained circus animal, its front legs dangling forward in awkward prayer. After hopping into Violet's field of view, it stopped and sounded a loud "meh", perhaps sensing that something was off in the scene. It hopped forward towards a point beside her.

Violet stayed as still as she could manage while the creature came closer and brought the dirty stench of sweat and dung. Its eye, with an iris in the shape of a four-pointed star, surveyed the area. Violet was close enough to see her silhouette reflected off its eye, but the goat paid her no notice.

Then, without warning, the sourceless light of the maze grew brighter and everything shimmered under the strong light. The ground, the stakes, even the goat-thing sparkled as if covered in glitters. Everything except Violet and her cloak. In that moment, the goat's gaze focused on her in recognition. It shouted a loud "meh" to call for help, but was cut short by a dagger in its eye. A perfect throw, right in the middle of the star. Too late, though. The sound of hooves on pebbled ground echoed around her. The cry for reinforcements was heard.

She stumbled away from the corpse and crouched with her back to a thicket of stakes. The thrill of the kill and the fear of discovery gave her just enough presence of mind to weave the magic to update her camouflage. After just a moment, her cloak now matched the glittering effect of the world around. Another dagger had somehow found a way into her hand.

What had had just happened to the light? What blew her disguise? Had Kyuubey known how bad she panicked? She should have thrown the dagger right away instead of grasping it for comfort like a baby's safety blanket.

Two goats- No. Four goats came into the clearing. After surveying the area, one of them went down on all fours and began sniffing at the dead goat's corpse. The rest spread out, encircling the place. Violet would have ran away, but her cloak warned her that the slightest movement caused imperfections in her camouflage. The enchantment was just too crude and rushed. All she could do was stay still and hope that the lighting wouldn't change again.

Hope wasn't enough. The light dimmed and the world was covered in shadows like before. Violet's cloak became a bright, glittering beacon in the almost darkness. All four goats zeroed in on her position. The one already on all fours charged at Violet, its horns pointed at her. Before it could close the distance, a dagger flew and landed between its horns, piercing its skull. The goat fell and skidded on the ground, dead weight.

The other three went down on all fours and charged in unison towards a flurry of daggers. The one in front was struck in the neck. When it fell on its side, the goat behind it tripped and fell on its comrade. The fall saved it and the dagger meant for the goat flew harmlessly over its head.

After missing that vital shot, Violet paused to look at Kyuubey on her shoulder. The hesitation was just the opening the last goat needed. It reached her before she could react and gouged its horns into her stomach. The impact was strong enough to knock Kyuubey off its perch and Violet would have lost her footing if she hadn't willed magic to hold her in place. With a scream, she plunged the dagger downwards in an underhanded stab. The goat wasn't dead yet, so she pulled her dagger out and stabbed again and again until the beast fell. Violet took a step back to let the horns fall out of her. It was almost as painful as when they went in.

By then, the goat that tripped had recovered. It scratched the ground with its hoof before charging at her. In that moment, with the twin points of pain in her stomach and her dagger slippery with blood, Violet wanted nothing more than to disappear. She didn't want Kyuubey to see her die pathetic like this. And with that important need, she wove a new illusion. She projected her sparkling image onto the dead goat in front of her and switched her own camouflage back to match the dim light.

To the goat, it looked the intruder had just fallen to the ground, bleeding. It shifted to attack its now vulnerable target. While Violet stepped back from her decoy, a lucid part of her mind made a mental note. Flawed camouflage can be compensated for with misdirection. Funny. They always said your life would flash before your eyes. A self lecture wasn't the most romantic of last thoughts.

When the charging goat struck the illusion-wrapped corpse, Violet conjured up the appropriate light and sound. She made the illusion scream in pain. She made blood spray from the new puncture wounds when the goat threw the illusion off to the side. She made it cry as it helplessly tried to crawl away. Then, when the body double suffered the finishing charge, she made it tear apart and die. She only had limited knowledge of her own anatomy, but it was enough to form the image of a grisly death.

It had to be over. It had to be. She couldn't take any more, the pain and the gore was too much. Then, the goat began to eat the flesh of its former comrade, believing it to be her. That's when it was too much for Violet. She tried to close her eyes to hide the sight of the gore, but couldn't escape the vivid mental image she had to invent when forming the illusion. Against her will to survive, she vomited.

She was dead, she thought, while she bent down and her stomach purged itself. Without her focus to sustain them, her camouflage and body double would disappear. She would suffer the same fate she had just imagined. Tears fell to the ground on top of her vomit. No flashbacks came, though. Was her life really that boring?

But nothing happened. She looked up and wiped the tears out of her eyes. The false gore and the minion devouring it were still there. The cloak still hid her with better camouflage than before. In her earlier panic, she had infused everything with much more magical energy than needed. The illusions would only disappear once that surplus was depleted.

She ran before either the energy or her luck would run out.

The path to the exit had changed. Stakes bent down to form fences that blocked off paths between two thickets. She could only guess which way to take, trying to put as much distance between her and the witch she detected deeper inside. In her panicked flight, she didn't notice her wounds had closed and the puke slid off her clothes. She didn't remember that she had left someone behind.

Her presence of mind only returned when the stakes bent to point upwards and the way to the exit cleared. Proof, perhaps, that the witch and her minions thought her dead or gone.

Gone, she thought. Something was gone. Only then did she notice that the weight of her companion on her shoulders was missing. Where was Kyuubey?!

The light brightened again and the maze glittered, but there was nothing to witness to her revealed presence. She was safe now, and the only witness to her spectacular failure was gone. The exit was ahead, a short sprint away.

Violet never ran faster in her life. When she broke into the night air, nothing in memory felt more refreshing. She didn't slow down from her sprint. She concentrated on that relief, not wanting to think about the companion she left behind.

It was only when she reached the end of the street before she realized something was wrong. Her cloak wasn't hiding her at all. It was still set to camouflage her in the witch's maze. If anyone saw her right now, they would see her as a window to that awful place. The thought scared her as much as the death she had just escaped. She ripped the illusion away so violently that there was a blinding flash of light. Without the spell over it, the cloak reverted to its original state and hid her from the normal world. Only then did she truly feel safe again. Her legs steadied and lost their uneasy wobble as they took her home by instinct.

During that long way back, her mind kept trying to come up with excuses for her failure. Kyuubey shouldn't have forced her before she was ready. Kyuubey should have taught her more about magic. Kyuubey should have given her more advice during battle. Kyuubey shouldn't have confused her by urging her to fight when she could have used magic to hide. Kyuubey should used what power he had to fight the minions with her.

But in the end, Violet was too smart to lie to herself. She knew the truth. Kyuubey had made only one mistake.

She should never have been chosen.

End Part One

o o o

Yep, this is an OC DO NOT STEAL story. Sorry to reel you in with some Kyoko.

No, wait. Please don't go.

Rather than remix the stock characters and plot, I wanted to build something based around the major epiphanies and turning points in the anime. You know: magical girl makes contract, magical girl learns witch hunting is hazardous to your health, magical girl sees the world sucks, magical girl discovers how baby witches are made and so on. I've got crossovers with some canon characters to bookend the story, but that's about it. I apologize to Homu/Sayaka fans.

The mechanics of magic and magical girls are based on what I got from the anime, which leaves a lot open to interpretation. So please don't call me out with an "it doesn't work that way". Other types of criticism are welcome, especially the negative kind. Positive criticism on the internet is dangerous due to circlejerk potential. Also, while I rarely leave "I read this" comments myself, feel free to do that because I appreciate them.

Chapter release schedule is weekly.

o o o

This work is under a CC-BY license. Do whatever you want with it. I just want the attention. 


	2. Chapter 2

Violet didn't know why she tried to sleep that night. She didn't feel tired at all and her mind refused to stop replaying the night's events or imagining what-if scenarios. At some point, she transformed into her magical outfit and paced around her room, tossing and catching her dagger into the air.

Her soul gem illuminated the space with a dim violet glow. Unlike before, the light felt grim rather than reassuring, as if it were a dying candle.

"You should conserve your strength," said a ghost's voice in her head.

Violet turned towards her bed, ready to throw the dagger in hand. Kyuubey sat on the sheets unharmed and uninjured, wearing its unchanging feline smile.

"I thought you were dead!" said Violet aloud. She would have woken her parents if the cloak hadn't silenced her scream.

"There is no need to worry about me," it answered. "I have my own methods of survival. Defeating the witch is more important and you will just making your task more difficult by wasting your magical energy."

Violet gripped her soul gem. Did it feel weaker than before? She wasn't sure. She could barely remember how strong was it earlier that evening, a lifetime ago.

"Observe how bright it shines," said Kyuubey as Violet released the gem from her hand. "It is not as vibrant as before. There is a slight dark taint in it."

She wasn't so sure, but she transformed back to normal anyway. Then, upon realizing she was using magic to keep herself energized, she dispelled that spell as well. While she still wasn't fatigued, she no longer sensed the bottomless well of energy that powered her body. In time, she would tire. "So, I need to get some rest to make it recharge?" she asked.

"The only way to cleanse the gem is with the grief seed of a witch. If you fail to acquire one, you will not be able to use your magic."

And her wish would be gone, thought Violet. Everything she went through tonight would be wasted. She'd have to live the rest of her life without her wonderful, wonderful cloak. The threat of it angered her. "What else do I need to know?" she asked, gripping her soul gem once more. "Things could have been different if you told be about how my cloak worked in the witch's maze, or if I knew there was a way to make my illusions last."

"I do not know myself what your kind of magic is capable of," Kyuubey answered. "All Puella Magi are different because each wish is unique."

"You could have told me what it takes to cleanse my soul gem. You could have told me how brutal the witch's guardians would be. Others' experiences can't be so different." She stared at the creature and shivered at its blank smile. Why did it give so much yet say so little? Did it act like this out of choice or limitation?

There was a long period of silence before Kyuubey answered. "So much happens at once that Puella Magi may be overwhelmed if I reveal everything up front. And during the first hunt, there is usually no danger as long as Puella Magi do what comes naturally to them. I try my best to choose people who can survive their first encounter in such a manner."

"You mean I'm weaker than you thought," she said, her voice deflating.

"Your raw strength is not that much different from most Puella Magi. Your abilities, though, are unusual. I cannot say for sure how to use them effectively."

"Neither do I," she said.

Those words accomplished what her soft sheets had failed to do: Violet yawned. It was time to go to bed.

o o o

Morning came too soon and Violet was faced with the choice of pretending to be sick or facing the day with a sticky grogginess. She had already tried pepping herself up with magic, but the jolt of wakefulness only went as deep as muscle and did nothing for the sloth in her brain. She chose to stay in. If she could fake her own death, playing sick should be a cakewalk.

Surprisingly, faking a fever had complications of its own. Altering the thermometer readout and conjuring the raspy voice of a sore throat was the easy part. What she couldn't fake was the feverish heat when her mother touched her forehead and the sureness in her voice when she said she didn't feel well.

Still, her parents were convinced in the end. Medicine and rest were prescribed. A thermos was filled with hot soup for lunch and a thicker blanket was brought to her room. Then, after giving wishes to get well, her parents left for work. Violet was alone. And so, she went back to sleep.

She woke up, refreshed, around an hour before her usual lunchtime. For a short while she just lay on her back and under the sheets, trying to catch the fragments of a dissipating dream. The only part that stood out was the one where she stood unseen in front of the witch, dagger in hand and a few steps away from a clean victory. She held on to that image as the rest of the dream slipped away. Now filled with optimism, she got up from bed.

Kyuubey sat at the foot of her mattress, staring at her with its round, red eyes. "Good morning, Violet," it said.

The greeting made her want to lie back down, but she couldn't just dismiss the wish granter and her remembered responsibility. "We need to get that witch, don't we?" she said.

"I am sure you'll do better this time," it said.

She wasn't so sure about that. So instead, she picked the alien cat up and placed it on her shoulder. "Let's get something to eat," she said before heading for the kitchen.

They continued their conversation at the dining table after she foraged a pack of crackers to go with her thermos of soup.

"I need time to practice," she said. "I need to know what my magic can do before I can face that witch."

Kyuubey nodded as it chewed on a soup-soaked cracker. "A prudent decision in light of your experience last night," it said. "But time is of the essence, Violet. A witch waits for no one. People will die and witches can multiply if left unattended for too long."

"At least nobody's died yet," she said. She ate the cracker she was about to feed to it.

"That is not entirely accurate. You should check the news," it replied as it took a cracker from the pack.

Violet left it behind to go to the TV in the living room. She turned it on and switched through the channels, flinching as she flipped past the cooking shows and game show reruns typical to the time slot. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered every time she saw the straight posture of a news anchor, but so far she hadn't found anything relevant.

Then, she found it. The place in that news report was the street where she found the witch's maze. Recognition swirled the soup in her stomach as the reporter enumerated the details.

There was a suicide on the street. Hours after she escaped the maze, a man working the night shift walked out into the street and disemboweled himself with a kitchen knife. Police affirmed that no clues pointed to foul play. Of course, Violet knew the truth.

It was her fault. She failed where other Puella Magi would have succeeded. Her retreat was paid at the cost of someone else's life. The dead man's manager was being interviewed but not a word reached Violet. There was too much to think about. Only the abrupt cut to a noisy orange juice commercial broke her trance. She switched the TV off in annoyance, but the silence was worse. It made her awareness echo in her mind.

Why did it feel so good to be alive if meant someone had died?

With a grunt, she stood up and transformed. The hood was up, the front of the cloak closed. And yet, she could still imagine her reflection on the television screen. She could hide from everyone except herself. There was no escape from self-judgement. She didn't deserve this wish if she couldn't fulfill her duty.

Kyuubey hopped on the coffee table between the couch and TV. "The witch is probably on the move by now," it said. Its eyes and smile burned with accusation.

"Leave me alone," she said. The cloak cancelled out the sound, but the message carried through the telepathy. "I'll get the witch. Just leave me alone."

She stormed out of the apartment, leaving Kyuubey and her half-eaten lunch behind. She exited the same way she did last night, down the elevator and out the front door. Habit guided her steps and before she knew it, she was on her way to school. Without a better idea of where to go, she kept moving. It was all automatic.

How would other Puella Magi have done it? Should she just have thrown knives and cut a path to the maze's center? What was her cloak good for, then? Was it nothing more than the luxury she wished for?

She hopped over the subway turnstile, took the stairs down and entered the rearmost train car. Even at this time of day, the crowds were dense enough in this closed space that she had to avoid them. As the train went down the line, she spun a dagger in her hand and stared at light reflecting off the metal of the blade.

What use was her weapon? She couldn't throw them too far and the wrong spin would make the handle hit instead of the blade. If she wanted to use them up close, she had to put herself at risk because the blade was just too short.

She left the subway station and walked uphill to school. At the school gate, the watchman's dog barked at her. The watchman himself saw nothing and returned to reading the light novel on his lap.

She was able to hide in the witch's maze, wasn't she? The camouflage only failed because the light alternated between dark to bright. Why didn't she have the kind of magic to counter that?

The lunch chime on the school's PA interrupted her musing when it sent a flood of students came out into the corridors. But after last night, she knew what to do. She slid her way through the gaps and shoved through unaware victims. With a spin and a flourish, she entered her classroom.

Now what?

She walked toward her seat then pressed the button to raise it from the floor. Only when people looked her way did she realize her stupidity. On impulse, she willed an illusion to form around her seat: the chair had never risen, there was no hum as the machinery brought it up.

The few people who saw blinked, shrugged and returned to their lunch. Violet retracted the chair before dispelling the illusion. Stupid. Careless.

She circled around and listened in on her classmates' various conversations.

"It's my sister's wedding. Of course I have to go."

"That last test was a killer. I really need your notes now."

"The secret to a boy's heart is his stomach."

"See? Violet's absent today. She must be really sick."

Violet stopped and leaned closer. These were the classmates she was supposed to meet with last night.

"Wouldn't hurt if she called, though."

A shrug, then they began to talk about the weather.

They weren't angry at her. Well, okay, so they were a bit angry. But it wasn't as bad as she thought. It was one less thing for her to worry about. One less weight on her back, even if she didn't know before that she was carrying it. "Sorry," she said to them before leaving the classroom.

With a newfound focus, she continued to gnaw at her problem while she wandered the schoolgrounds for a place to go.

Now, why did people use daggers in the old days if there were better weapons? They were cheaper and you could make a lot of them. They were lighter so you didn't have to be strong to hold one. They were small, which made them easy to hide. You could throw them if you knew how.

She arrived at the co-curricular buildings on campus. The gym was empty. Most of the club rooms were as well. The few people inside were loners like her or those catching up to some business. It piqued her curiosity and she wanted to see what they were up to, but she had too much on her mind at the moment.

Did a dagger's advantages help her at all? It seemed like these were useless in a magical battle, especially against a monster such as a witch. But this wasn't an ordinary dagger, was it? She had magic on her side as well. Magic she hadn't explored deeply yet.

The door to the roof was locked, probably to prevent shenanigans on the deserted rooftop. Violet considered heading back down to the janitor's office and stealing the keys then decided against it. Maybe another time. For now, she just slid a dagger through the gap where door met doorframe. The magic dagger cut through the lock as if it were paper.

It was hot up here. The clouds were too thin to cover the noontime sun and only the constant cool breeze made it bearable. But, as she had hoped, the place was deserted. No one would probably go up here, especially since the door should have been locked. No one would see her make a fool of herself.

Perfect.

o o o

It was late afternoon when Violet returned to the maze's location. A police van was parked in front of the office building where the witch's victim used to work. The investigators were probably inside, looking for evidence. They didn't suspect that the cause was a few buildings down the road, on a wall between two shops. Where it used to be, anyway. The witch had moved from its spot. She would have to track it again.

After around two hours following the twisted path, she found the rift. It was on the underside of archway at a park entrance. This time, she went in smoothly and without hesitation, carrying the confidence of someone with nothing to lose. The dagger in her right hand felt like it could spring forth on its own at the first sight of trouble. She was ready.

The other side was just as surreal as she remembered. A forest of wooden stakes and stony dirt covered in crisscrossed shadow. It was somewhat comforting to know the witch was consistent within its rules.

The first thing she did was rebuild her camouflage before a minion could stumble upon her. Now that she was dead calm, the task was easier. The logic of the visual pattern was clear. The shadows were those of tree branches. When they moved, it matched the rustling sound in the air. Nevermind the fact that there were no actual branches.

As a test, she dashed across open ground to the nearest thicket of stakes. The feeling of protection from her cloak didn't waver. Her camouflage was working perfectly. She'd do it right this time. She was sure of it.

But this wasn't what almost got her killed last night, was it? Her camouflage was good then, even if it was imperfect. The goat wouldn't have noticed her if-

As if on cue, the entire maze sparkled. Every pebble, stake and patch of dirt glittered brightly. No minions saw her camouflage waver, but she knew this might not be the case deeper in. There just weren't enough places for her to hide. It would take only an unlucky moment for her to be spotted. While she was more confident in her ability to face a straight fight, she hoped it wouldn't come to that.

There had to be a different way.

She sat down with her back to the stakes and began to think. Was there a pattern to the cycle of light and dark? If she could anticipate it, she could switch her camouflage to match the phenomenon before it happened.

She waited and watched the light change, timing each change with her watch. To her disappointment, there was neither regularity nor pattern. Or if there was a pattern, her math wasn't good enough to figure it out.

Okay, she thought, try a different approach. If not "when", what about "why"? Was there a trigger to it? How did it match the rest of the witch's world? She looked closer at the environment. The shadows, the stakes and the wind suggested a forest, that much was clear. A forest made of dead wood because the ground was dry and rocky.

But the ground wasn't the dusty surface of a lifeless forest. The rocks were weird. They were round and smooth, not the kind of rocks you'd find in a dirt trail. No, you'd find these rocks in a creek, a stream. So where was the water, then?

The answer didn't come no matter how hard she looked. She was on the verge of giving up and resorting to a straight out assault when the maze erupted with another round of sparkles. That was all it took for everything to click in her head. The water was everywhere. That shimmering effect was the same as running water in the sunlight. She made her cloak reflective like water and, just like that, she faded away, perfectly invisible in the bright light.

It was all very pretty, but what use was that? The timing between light and dark were irregular, she couldn't switch to the appropriate camouflage on demand. She was back to the start of her dilemma. What was the use of understanding all this? In her frustration she stabbed a dagger into the dirt.

Of course, nothing happed. The maze didn't scream in pain or start bleeding. As magical as it was, the dirt was just dirt. Like the real world, the power to rearrange the landscape was beyond her. There was no way to change the rules. All she could do was play along, no matter how much she hated them.

Right. Play by the rules, then. If things in this maze reacted differently to varying kinds of light, why couldn't she do the same? She could make the cloak display shadows under the dim light and reflect like water under strong light. The maze itself proved that it was possible. All it took was the right weave of magic.

And so, for the next hour or so, Violet stayed right there at the entrance of the maze trying to create that complicated camouflage. With a novice's trial and error as her only method, progress would have been impossible if it wasn't for the feedback of her cloak. The cloak, the pure essence of her wish, told her with full certainty how hidden she was. With every cycle of shadow and shimmering, she knew she was getting closer to her goal.

Finally, it was done. The camouflage was perfect. Her cloak's shell of protection felt as impenetrable as it did outside the maze.

To test it, she crept toward the nearest goat thing she could hear. She knew she should have felt danger as she came closer, she knew she should have been filled with apprehension. But the cloak was just too comforting. So when she turned a corner and went into the minion's line of sight, her hand had a relaxed grip on her dagger.

The minion didn't react. It just hopped forward as if she wasn't there. Violet waved at it and even if the cloak fluttered open to make way for her arm, the minion still didn't see her. The camouflage wasn't on the cloak, it was a bubble that emanated from the cloth.

She stayed in front of the minion until the maze shimmered and her camouflage adapted seamlessly. It still didn't see her. The enchantment was a success.

"Stupid goat," she said out loud. The camouflage silenced her words, turning it into the sound of rustling leaves. The minion continued on its way.

With a smile, she walked deeper into the maze. Minions walked past her without a clue. At this rate, the witch wouldn't even see her when she put a dagger through its heart. Surely no other Puella Magi could do this as easily as this!

The terrain began to change as she came closer to the witch. The ground became rockier until it was completely made of stone. The sound of running water began to replace the sound of rustling leaves. The amount of stakes grew sparser until there was only a large clearing with herds of goats hopping around.

In the center of the clearing, on a small island ringed by a wide trench, was a well. It was the entrance to the witch's chamber, said the soul gem at her neck. Violet drew her dagger in anticipation then she stepped into the clearing. The herds guarding the space paid no attention to her. Even at the place with the heaviest guard, it was as easy to blend in as the entrance.

When she reached the trench, there was a stone bridge leading to the island. Other than jumping into the deep trench and climbing up the opposite side, it was the only way to the well. Violet shrugged and set foot on the bridge.

Immediately, she knew she had just made a mistake.

The sound of her footstep wasn't muffled by the cloak. The bridge wasn't simply made of stone. It was- No, it couldn't be.

The middle of the bridge cracked open with jagged lines that formed two rows of teeth. It began to fold shut down the center, each half sloping towards its mouth. The thing wasn't a structure, it was a giant minion!

Violet stumbled backwards and scrambled off the living bridge. Her camouflage still held, but the noise the creature made attracted the attention of the herds in the clearing. They hopped closer to investigate the disturbance. If one got close enough to touch her bubble of illusion, it would surely see her and raise the alarm.

She looked in both directions. The goats on one side, the folding bridge and the witch on the other. With an angry grunt, she jumped on the bridge and sprinted to the other side. She had to cross it in time, before the slope was too steep to run on.

The increasing downward slant added to her speed, as well as the magic that coursed in her legs. But as she approached the midpoint, the bridge creature's maw, she realized she might not make it. Even so, the natural urge of flight locked her to her path. She didn't see any other options before her.

When she reached the thing's mouth, she jumped and used an explosive burst of magic to propel herself further. It was a trick she had practiced earlier at school and she was glad her preparations were not in vain. The feeling that almost convinced her she was going to make it. Almost. Because when she landed, she stumbled on the reverse incline and lost most of her speed. The other side suddenly seemed so much farther away.

She charged her body with as much magic as she could manage, but the upward slope made it tough to go faster. It was getting steeper and steeper and her stupid, useless illusions couldn't help her at all. Why couldn't she have wished to fly away instead? She still kept running, though. It felt good to run even if was hopeless.

She slipped and fell. Gravity pulled her down towards the creature's jagged teeth.

In anger, she conjured a dagger directly in her hand, another trick she learned at school. Then, with an underhanded grip, she stabbed the creature. It wasn't hurt. It didn't make a sound or flinch. But the dagger bit into the rock flesh and stayed there, arresting her downward slide.

She laughed at the serendipity of it all and, with magic-enhanced strength, she pulled herself up the slope using the arm hanging on from the dagger. It wasn't that hard. The slope was steep but not yet vertical. In her other hand, she conjured another dagger and plunged it into the rock like the first one. There, handholds. Now rinse and repeat and go up like its a ladder.

She climbed until reached the lip. The other side of the trench was far away, but she figured she high enough to make the magic-assisted jump. Besides, there nothing to lose if she was wrong. Magic in her muscles launched her high. An explosive burst in the air propelled her forward. Yes, she thought in mid flight, it was enough.

Upon landing, another burst of force helped cushion her fall. Instead of splattering on the rocks, all she received was a painful roll. Whatever. She was alive. Alive!

With a scream silenced by her cloak, she conjured up a fistful of daggers and threw them towards the bridge. It didn't react, so she screamed and threw another volley at it. Again and again, she kept up her attack until the two halves of the bridge closed shut and produced a loud echoing thud. Only then did Violet stop to fall on her knees and cry.

This wasn't worth the wish she made. She'd rather face her classmates' indifference, her parent's disappointment and her failure as a student. She'd rather live in a world that never gave her a place to belong instead of dying in a disturbing maze like this.

But as she sobbed, she realized that was a lie. Despite the danger, her purpose and power as a Puella Magi were aligned. The magic she wielded matched the challenges she faced and it felt oh so good to have the solution come naturally to every problem. Beneath the fear and hysteria was an excited satisfaction at getting this far.

She looked up to see that the bridge monster reverted back to looking like a bridge. How long had she cried, she wondered. How much longer until the end of the maze? She wiped her tears away with her cloak and drew the dagger from its sheath. The cloak imparted its feeling of protection. The dagger was an extension of her body, lending lethality to her fingertips. As crazy as it was, this was a world where she belonged.

A peek into the well revealed a short drop down a cave lit by a soft blue glow. Inside, there were no crisscrossed shadows and no cycles of light and dark. Since there were no minions here to get her on this island, she dispelled the old camouflage and wove a new one to match the blue down the well. Then, with dagger in hand, she jumped inside.

While falling, at the halfway point between the cave's floor and ceiling, she saw her first witch. It was literally weeping willow: trunk and branches that cried a waterfall of tears. It swayed from side to side in the windless cavern, the wood flexing more like muscle.

Violet's cloak silenced her landing. The magical burst that broke her fall and the splash of her boots into ankle high water were hidden by illusions as well. She held her breath for a moment, unsure if her visual camouflage was working or if the witch was just looking away.

The witch shifted and turned. There was no way to tell which way it was looking. The thing didn't have eyes. It didn't even have a head. What was it doing?

Only then did Violet notice that ripples had spread from her landing spot. Ripples that left the globe of enchantment around her cloak were visible to the witch.

Crap.

But this time, she didn't panic. The feeling of danger was familiar to her now, thanks to all the times she escaped death. With a cold decisiveness, she conjured a fistfull of invisible daggers and threw them. None were aimed at the witch. Her targets were scattered points around the cave.

The daggers landed in the water and sent ripples of their own. The witch spun around in confusion and Violet used the opportunity to dash forward. She couldn't outrun the ripples from her movement, so she hid them with enchantments that carried themselves forward on the miniature waves.

She was still some distance to the witch, so she threw another set of daggers around the cave. The witch, now afraid, lashed out at the center of a decoy ripple, firing a bright orange beam from somewhere on the trunk. Steam rose from the veil of tears and the target it hit. It smelled like roasted rice. Three other spots received the same treatment and the room began to fog.

Violet threw her last set of decoys. She was close enough now to throw a dagger accurately or lunge forward with a single stab. But what should she aim for? The witch was huge. What was a fatal stab wound to a human would only be a pinprick to the thing. Without a target, she came even closer, hoping to find one. What else could she do? Daggers were no use at a distance anyway.

The witch attacked the last set of decoy ripples as Violet crossed under the veil of tears. She still didn't have a clue on how to take the witch down, even if she was close enough to reach out and touch it. The monster's anatomy was beyond logic and what she remembered from biology class. There was no way she could analyze it by sight.

Magic, damn it, she told herself. Use magic to find a weak spot. But she hadn't thought of experimenting to learn some sort of scanning spell. The only relevant magic she was familiar with was the intuitive way her soul gem tracked witches. And at this distance, her gem was practically screaming, "WITCH AHEAD!"

The witch looked around frantically. It still had no idea what just happened.

Violet focused completely on her soul gem, trying to will it to cough up better advice. Where was its heart? Its kidneys? Its, uh, pancreas? She was running out of vital organs to ask for. And what did a pancreas do, anyway? "WITCH AHEAD," her gem answered while pointing straight in front of her.

"Fine," she said aloud. "Straight ahead." She stabbed her dagger in the stupid direction her soul gem pointed to her. It had to work. Stabbing things in anger had a remarkably good track record for solving her problems.

Violet pushed the dagger in with as much force as she could and it pierced the bark easily. The blade slipped in, then the handle, then her arm up to the elbow. She made the dagger disappear and pulled her arm out. Red sap gushed out. Unfazed, she conjured another dagger then stabbed again, this time with a magical burst to reinforce her strike. The blood lubricated her entry and she penetrated even deeper. The force enlarged the wound.

The witch howled in pain, too stunned to react just yet. The bad news was that it was still alive.

Violet pulled her arm out then stared at the damage she caused. How could she make it deeper? She couldn't throw a dagger inside. Thrown daggers needed to spin before they hit their target and a stab wound surely didn't have space for that. And even if the wound was grotesquely wide, a spinning dagger wasn't a piercing attack.

Magic, she told herself again. Use magic. She was no longer restrained by the physics and techniques of the ordinary world.

With another dagger in hand, she stabbed into the wound. Then, once it was as far as it could go, she propelled the dagger forward with a small magical burst from her hand. The dagger ripped through the witch's unarmored interior like bullet. It only stopped when it hit the tough skin on the other side of the witch's body.

Suddenly, Violet's soul gem was silent. There was no longer a witch in front of her. In a most anticlimactic conclusion, the maze faded away to reveal the predawn darkness. Violet was back at the park entrance. On the ground in front of her was her first grief seed.

She screamed and laughed in triumph. Then, after she caught her breath and remembered to return her cloak's camouflage to normal, she screamed and laughed again, her celebration unseen and unheard.

Just the way she liked it.

End Part Two 


	3. Chapter 3

Violet was calm while the platform she sat on plunged in freefall. There was no reason to be afraid. Nothing in this witch's maze ever hit the bottom. Everything just kept falling forever in this empty space.

Her eyes followed the path of a witch's minion while it travelled through the blackness. It was a living neon sign, a glowing red illustration of lips drawn with a single line. While it moved, its appearance alternated between three frames: a looping animation of a widening grin. It paid no attention to her at all. Her camouflage was flawless.

After the minion floated off into the distance, Violet drew it and logged its description in her sketchbook. There were already three entries for the other witch's minions in this maze, as well as diagrams on the wild terrain and the route she took.

In its earlier pages, the sketchbook held extensive drawings and notes on the five witches she had encountered, named and defeated. Natalia, the witch of broken glass. Amalie and her prismatic maze, where Violet had made her most difficult illusions so far. Marguerite, whose minions were so fluffy Violet wanted one of her own. Carolyn, where Violet had to leave its maze and return with winter clothing. And Emilia, the first witch she faced.

Of the three grief seeds she acquired, she had only used one. According to Kyuubey, her methods were efficient. Infiltrating a maze used less magic than a frontal assault with straightforward combat. The only downside was the patience it demanded.

In the distance, a sliver of green wriggled through the air. Another witch's minion. Another detail to investigate. Violet buckled her sketchbook and pen at the back of her belt. Then, after plotting a route of hops from one glowing platform to another, she jumped, bringing her closer to the creature and its mistress.

o o o

While her classmates struggled with the equations, all Violet had to do was let her laptop do all the solving. She wasn't supposed to be using it during the test, of course, but getting away with cheating was easy with her magical mastery of sight and sound. The tricky part was not finishing too fast and getting enough steps wrong to avoid a perfect score. She only wanted her grades to be on the high side, not to attract attention as a genius.

She was done right as desk's touchscreen flashed its five minute warning. More than enough time to shut down her laptop and replace it in her bag. With the evidence gone, she dispelled the illusion and made a show of stretching her arms before she tapped the onscreen submit button. For the rest of the period, she looked around her classroom and planned who to stalk when lunch came.

The bell rang, accompanied by the groans of classmates who didn't finish in time. But before Violet stood, one of her classmates came up to her desk. "Piece of cake, huh?" he asked.

She looked up to see the alpha geek in the class, one of the rare guys who could carry both smarts and smiles. "Um, a bit," she said. "I don't think I got it perfect, though." She wondered why he asked her. Was he about to invite her to lunch? To the math club? To a relationship? No, it couldn't be that last one. Like everyone in her class, she had stalked him under her cloak until she was sure she figured him out. This guy had eyes on a girl one grade higher than them.

"Why don't you join us for lunch?" he asked.

Ah, so her first guess was right. It would be okay, except for the fact that him and his friends weren't her crowd. When she stalked them hanging out together, they always talked about computer games or this anime she had no interest in following. She'd either be clueless in their conversations or they'd trip over themselves to accommodate her. Both outcomes would be uncomfortable for everyone. Both outcomes would make them hate her.

"Violet?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh, sorry," she said with enough eye contact to show she was paying attention now. "Can't. Not today."

He gave he a smile that almost made her change her mind. "Alright then, maybe some other time."

She got up and walked to the cafeteria with hurried steps, resisting the urge to look behind her. Once there, she bought a sandwich to go and left for the rooftop. The staircase was deserted after two flights up today, so she transformed into her magical outfit right there instead of going all the way up. Now invisible, she headed back with lunch in hand to where all the people were.

Mister alpha and his gang had a table at the cafeteria. She approached close enough to listen.

"The weapon enchantment and the passive skill stack together," said one of them. "And with the speed of a dagger, the damage you can do is murder!"

Violet held her breath for a split second until she realized he wasn't talking about real magic. It was just some game. Boring stuff. Declining the invitation was a good choice, she thought. Weird how alpha wasn't paying attention, though. Did he really want her here? She shrugged, took a bite from her sandwich and wandered on, promising to observe him closely some other time.

Around her, people talked about schoolwork, net videos, music or blog posts. Nothing intriguing. No shared secrets- Wait, what's this? Juicy unrequited love? She approached close enough to eavesdrop.

"How do would you know she's into me? You aren't even that close to her," said one classmate to another.

Ah yes, Violet knew all about that girl's infatuation. When that girl was alone, she would spend lots of time looking at pictures of him posted online. Sometimes, when she would look for naughtier pictures of boys, they were never too different from him.

The other classmate replied. "A got a tip from one of her friends. But really, once I knew what to look for, I could tell by her glances."

"She glances at me?!" said the first classmate.

Violet giggled and took a bite out of her sandwich. Under her cloak, she had done more than glance at him and other people in her class. She knew very well that he had nothing to be ashamed of.

"A lot!" said the second classmate. "She's really subtle about it, too. I don't think anyone else in class can keep a secret as well as she does."

"There's Violet," said the first classmate.

Violet leaned closer.

"Ha! Now she's a real mystery. I don't even know if she's a real girl," said the second classmate with a chuckle. "But really, don't wait for her to act first. I think you should make a move."

She walked away. Their conversation suddenly wasn't very interesting.

o o o

Violet walked down the red carpeted floor with sure, calm steps. Her camouflage was inactive. The hood and cloak hung behind her back like a cape, exposing the interior of her outfit. It was a rare sight. She had only resorted to such measures once before.

Around her spun a whirlwind of daggers that gave her a bubble of safety in the maze. It was an expensive spell to maintain. By her estimates, it would cost her at least one grief seed to keep it up until reaching the witch. But in this realm, she had no choice. The witch's minions could detect her by scent, something she couldn't fake with her magic.

Those minions surrounded her, jewel encrusted wolves that made screeching noises instead of barking. By now, all of them knew that her sphere of blades was impenetrable. They could only follow and keep their distance from her as she made her way deeper into the maze.

Part of her brain urged her to run as fast as she could, but discipline helped her maintain her deliberate pace. At this speed, she could keep an eye out for anything that could happen. The rules of a maze could change at any time to fatally prove that she misunderstood them. More importantly, this was the fastest she could go while still taking down notes.

In her sketchbook, she noted how the minions bled from the jewels in their bodies. She drew the masks and bare picture frames that hung from the wall. She wrote how the faint sound of an untuned piano could be heard in the distance. It was all important, even if she couldn't use it to hide in this place. Understanding a witch was the key to defeating it no matter how she faced it.

Her soul gem shuddered to tell her the witch was near and she put her sketchbook away. Witches were too dangerous for her to take chances with, even if she was willing to use more than a grief seed to take one down. In her right hand, she conjured a larger knife that usual. Its blade was heavy enough that she could throw it by the handle. Her left hand was free. With it, she could direct the stream of daggers around her.

The wolves attacked. She must have been close enough to their mistress to make them desperate. With a swing of her left hand, she sent some daggers to whip out and clear a path ahead. Then, she sped up just a bit as minions from the other sides crashed into her bubble of blades. Only their blood got through and even then, it only slid off her outfit.

There was a portal ahead now, a circle of light on the wall from a spotlight on the floor. But something was off. Her soul gem said she was closing the distance faster than she was walking. That meant- She dodged to the side just in time to avoid the witch who charged through the portal to meet her. The sound of a broken piano was louder now.

She didn't get a good look at the witch. All she saw was the blur of its elongated body when it flew by. Was it an eel? An oriental dragon? It was a pity she couldn't hide and watch. A pity her notes would forever incomplete.

With a wave of her hand, she sent all of her daggers to the witch.

o o o

Violet was on her way out to hunt witches when she caught her parents talking in the dining room. Since tonight's hunt wasn't urgent, she decided to keep her hood up and listen in.

"It's not her grades," said her mother. "Her teachers say they don't see her socialize with the rest of her class."

"I've been talking to Violet," said her father. He took a sip of coffee before continuing. "She says there's nothing wrong. It's just a phase. No need to worry unless it lasts."

"What do you really know?" said her mother. "There are things people hide from one another."

"We're her parents. What would she hide from us?"

"I found a sketchbook in her desk."

Violet's scream was silenced under her hood. "You what?!" She reached into her cloak to touch the sketchbook and was relieved to find it there.

Her mother continued. "It was full of these disturbing descriptions of other girls. I didn't recognize the names, but they sounded too foreign to be her classmates. People she met online, maybe."

"Or ones she made up," said her father. "Our Violet's a writer, then."

"Stop taking it so lightly! You didn't see it. She wrote about bleeding creatures, the pain of frostbite, a possible rape... It's all so dark. Disturbed."

Her father sipped his coffee in silence while he thought.

"I know what you're about to say," said her mother. "You think we should leave her alone until she asks for help or until we're sure she's losing it."

Her father nodded.

"She's not like you," said her mother. "Or maybe she is, but it's still better for her if someone's there for her. Wouldn't your younger self have wished for that?"

"No one knows what to wish for at that age," he said. "Any wishes we had were immature."

"That's the point," said her mother. "She doesn't know she'll feel better if she talked to someone about this."

There was a long silence while her father thought things over. Violet couldn't help but speak.

"I knew exactly what to wish for!" she said to her father. To her mother, "and if you knew me at all, you'd know that no one wants to talk to me anyway." Then, to both of them, "I'm fine! I'm happy! Why can't you see it?"

She thought of stepping around the corner, dispelling her outfit and confronting them. Instead, she went out to hunt witches. It was easier to just disappear. It was her wish, after all.

Later that month, both her parents tried their best to get her to talk. Her father talked about his teenage years during a long drive they had together. Her mother took her out shopping and spoke of secrets and trust. Violet didn't say anything of importance. She didn't have good enough lies and didn't know how they would react to the truth. But the displays made it tempting to spill everything.

In the end, she asked Kyuubey for advice the next time it appeared to meet her.

"Revelations rarely go well," it said from her shoulder while she tracked a witch on a pier. "In ancient times, a Puella Magi was likely to be feared and despised. In more tolerant ages, it is a common problem for her to be misunderstood. Those close to a Puella Magi will try to stop her from endangering herself or try to help only to get in the way. Then, when a Puella Magi uses force on the ones she loves to protect them from themselves, they often end up hating her for it."

"Would my parents be any different?"

"The choice is up to you. Unlike other Puella Magi, your wish allows you to gain much more insight to judge their behavior. Could you say for sure that they will understand?"

"I don't know," she said. The admission brought a chill, even if her cloak shielded her from the cool dockside breeze. All this time, she had avoided spying on her parents. It just felt wrong to violate their privacy, even if she had no qualms with doing the same to others. Why was that? The question bothered her for the rest of the night.

But in the end, after days of deliberation, she decided to go ahead and skip school to spy on hunting had taught her to value observation and information. The more she understood her target, the safer it became for her.

That was how it should have been. Instead, seeing the spreadsheets her mother handled made her feel stupid. All the numbers and terms were beyond her understanding. The questions her father asked during his building inspections made her realize how little she knew about people and how good he was at ferreting out a lie with the pressure of interrogation.

Both parents asked their friends and coworkers for advice regarding their daughter. Neither got satisfactory answers and any bad advice was smartly discarded. It was impossible to hate her parents. They were truly doing their best.

Then, one night, Violet snuck into her parents' room to find them tangled together in lovemaking. She blushed and looked away but didn't leave. If this was a witch's maze, she told herself, she'd stay and watch. There was no other way to learn how a maze worked. She forced her eyes to look at the sight and crept closer for a better view. Their moans and grunts got louder until they echoed in her head.

It felt so wrong to her, so she tried to dull the feeling with cold analysis. What did her mother's happy expression mean? Why was her father on top? Would they switch positions later on? She didn't find any answers. It took all her mental capacity to stay standing while her body shook with revulsion and... That other feeling.

When mother closed her eyes and quivered, it became too much for Violet. She covered her ears and ran out of the bedroom, leaving the illusion of a closed door to cover her retreat. She went straight to the bathroom, where she crouched down at the toilet and retched. The last time this happened was when she almost died on her first night as a Puella Magi. How could tonight's sight be just as powerful? Witch mazes were so much more horrifying.

After her stomach tried and failed to empty itself, she wiped her mouth on her cloak and looked at the empty mirror. Even when she could see all their secrets, even if they tried their best to connect with her, she didn't belong in this family. Her sickened body and the otherworldly glow of her soul gem told her as much.

o o o

This witch was the type the killed slowly. It hid from Violet in its black cloud of smoke, waiting for the smog she inhaled to bring her down. Violet had no choice but to pursue. Staying out of the smoke would keep her out of dagger range and, with her soul gem guiding her with precision, it didn't matter that the smoke obscured her vision. The witch kept its distance, wishing to avoid a straight fight. It could sense her despite her perfect camouflage, a trait of its cursed smoke.

The two of them played chase through ruined hospital rooms. The witch left patches of heat, traps that would have roasted Violet if she stumbled into one in her haste. Violet cut through walls with summoned daggers, forming shortcuts to close in and avoid the expected path.

Eventually, Violet's soul gem sensed there was no cover between her and the witch. She sent a swarm of daggers in that direction without another thought. The witch screamed and as simple as that, it was done. The encroaching heat disappeared and the smoke in her lungs stopped trying to tear her apart from the inside. The cloud blew away and the unnatural shadows of the maze settled back to normal lengths. The place was just an ordinary house again.

In the living room, the witch's victims shook their heads and wondered why they were covered in gasoline. The one holding a lighter above his head stared it, panting. None of them saw Violet, who had reflexively reset her camouflage to normal.

"Are we still doing it?" asked one of them.

"We've gone this far," said the one holding the lighter.

"Stop!" said Violet. "The witch is dead!" No one heard her, of course. The cloak made sure of that.

There was a short moment when she could have done something. She could have pulled down her hood and talked to them. She could have thrown a dagger to force the lighter out of his hand. She could have cast a burst of force to knock them all out. Instead, she stood by and observed, as she always did.

The lighter's spark grew to a flame. In an instant, it spread down its wielder's body and into the puddle of gas pooled around the group. The sudden heat snapped everyone out of their trance. Some rolled on the floor or collapsed in pain. Others tried to run from the flames in a hopeless retreat that only served to spread the fire. The firestarter stood still and laughed, his hand held high.

Violet stayed where she was and watched. Since she was invisible, a burning woman bumped into her and they both fell to the ground. The woman screamed into Violet's ear and Violet could smell her cooking flesh. With enhanced strength and a magical burst of force, Violet pushed the woman off and launched her across the room. The woman hit the wall and collapsed, limp and silent. Flames jumped from her body to the wallpaper.

Violet got up and ran straight out the house. She could hear sirens in the distance, firefighters too far and too late. They would never know what truly happened. The real tragedy was for her to bear alone.

o o o

The least Violet could do was leave them a note.

I've always wished I could disappear and now, my wish has been granted. I won't be coming back. Sorry for making you worry, but please believe me when I say that I'll be happier this way and be as safe as before.

She signed the note, left it on the dinner table then turned invisible under her cloak. The clock said it would be two hours until her parents returned from work. A long wait, but she owed it to them to see their reaction. It was only fair that she knew about the pain she was about to cause.

As the hours passed, she began to doubt her decision. So what if they were secretly planning to send her to a psychologist? She knew she wasn't crazy. What was the worst that could happen? And couldn't she just tell her parents about the magic and the witches? They were so willing to listen. Or maybe she could make up an all-encompassing lie for them to believe. With illusions at hand, she could conjure up any evidence she needed.

But these arguments already had their say in the past. They just resurfaced in desperation.

Going to a psychologist meant that people, including her parents, would think she was crazy. And on top of that, who knows how a shrink would interpret what she said? She could really be diagnosed with something that would label her for life.

Revealing herself to her parents would be just as bad. If they knew she could vanish, they would figure out that she saw everything they said or did. She couldn't bear to look into eyes that knew she had violated their privacy. Kyuubey's advice also weighed on her mind. She couldn't have them meddle with her witch hunting.

Creating a magnificent lie was out of the picture. She was never any good at lying and, like illusions, lies decayed over time. Eventually, her parents would find out. She would be back where she was right now, except with broken trust.

Violet's only course of action was to fulfill her wish. She would disappear from their life and the weight of their judgement.

She fretted and played with her dagger until they arrived, thirty minutes late. When the front door opened, she almost fumbled and dropped it. Her heart beat as fast as it did when fighting a witch and she had to struggle to sheathe her weapon.

Her mother was the first to enter the dining room. She put her handbag on the table, picked up the note and read it. When her eyes reached the bottom, she gripped the note hard enough to crumple it and ran straight to Violet's room. "Violet!' she called out. "Violet!"

Violet followed her father up the stairs and into her room. She peeked inside the doorway in time to see her father receive a slap.

"I told you we should have done something sooner!" said her mother. "Whatever was wrong with her just got worse!"

"Calm down," he said. "I don't even know what happened."

Her mother handed him the note then rummaged through Violet's desk, pulling out the drawer where Violet once hid her sketchbook.

"I'll call the police," her father said. "I'm sorry. You were right."

He embraced her mother with one arm and made the call with his free hand.

Violet stayed to watch the whole drama.

A detective came to ask questions. No, she wasn't seeing anyone. Yes, she was going out a lot. No, they didn't know where she was going. No, her grades were up and she didn't look unhappy. Of course not, she wasn't suicidal. You'll have to ask someone at school if you want to know about her friends.

They didn't find a single clue in her room. Her teachers and some of her classmates were asked the same questions and gave the same answers her parents did. Her cellphone was tracked. Her online accounts were monitored. But in the end, there wasn't a single clue. Violet had truly disappeared. And without a clear trail to follow, the case was left unsolved for the ones that weren't impossible.

Her parents didn't stop looking. In the days that followed, she looked over their shoulders as they sent messages to her email address and cellphone number. They scoured reports for any mention of a girl of Violet's age and description. They made their own interrogations with people at school. And every night, one of them stayed awake in case she decided to return home.

At school, Violet was the talk of the town and the subject of the silliest rumors. She eloped with the teacher who quit a month before, he was a cute guy after all. She was the latest addition to the hypno kidnapper's collection of living dolls, why else would she leave a vague note. She ran away to become a yakuza assassin, you could tell by the way she held a pen that she knew how to handle a knife. It pleased her that none of the rumors really cast her in a negative light. She had expected to be written off as a suicidal loner.

Eventually, people moved on. Her parents accepted the fact that what's done was done. They moved on as best they could, with her last note as their only solace. Violet decided against sending them another message. A new one might just give false hope that would reopen the wounds they were starting to heal.

After some time she became a myth at her school. Her disappearance was the story told to frighten freshmen. Her ghost was the one causing the weird noises on the third floor. When the next semester started, a transfer student took her seat. Violet stalked him for awhile, amused that her replacement was almost her exact opposite.

And at the end of the day, Violet returned to her new home: an apartment rented out with stolen casino money and a false identity. The cash was enough to get her spacious rooms and a good view. But over time, the place became quite unkempt.

Papers from practice sketches were piled up beside one of the walls. The jacket she wore last winter lay in a corner, covering up a half-used set of colored pencils and a graphics tablet she broke by spilling juice on it. Food packages were the only things she cleaned up religiously, because she didn't want the place to stink up.

Besides, no one except Kyuubey dropped by. And even then, his short visits were only to collect her depleted grief seeds.

"You have a lot of surplus seeds," it said to her on one of the rare days when it stayed.

She shrugged and continued sketching the cat-thing's caricature on her new graphics tablet. "Most witches are simple after I get to know them," she said with a glance to her sketchbook on the table. "Once I get the camouflage right, it doesn't take much to walk up and take one down."

"Other Puella Magi struggle with their quota," it replied. "It is especially tough when they still need to cope with school and family."

"Are you saying I have it easy?" She changed the hue of its eyes in her picture to a brighter, more demanding red.

"Those with neither family nor friends have a different set of problems."

"I wouldn't know. I like it this way, honestly."

It glanced around her apartment, a silent disagreement. "Good for you," it said before returning to the pose she asked for.

She lifted her stylus off the pad and examined the unfinished picture. She just couldn't do it. Except for the eyes, not a pixel captured the implied hostility she felt. It was just too darn cute. She saved the image and moved it to her junk folder, a virtual space that mirrored the mess of her apartment.

"Let's do the portrait some other time," she said. "I don't want to keep you."

"Very well," said Kyuubey. It stretched like a cat then padded out of the room, leaving her alone.

After a few moments of chewing on her stylus, Violet reopened the image and tried to get it right. She worked on it for some time but in the end, she still wasn't happy with her work. She finally figured out that the pose was all wrong. A predator's pose would be more apt for the feeling she wanted to capture, not that of a housecat. The picture really was junk.

She yawned and switched off her computer. It was all okay. No one else had seen her failure. She was free keep on trying until she got it right.

End Part Three

This work is under a CC-BY license.

What? The last chapter didn't have the notice? Whatever. 


	4. Chapter 4

With her camouflage active, Violet stood on top of the clock tower in the middle of the park, testing out a new spell. She held her hands out as if looking through a telescope and peered through the loops formed by her fingers. Magic bent the light that passed by her fingers, magnifying the image as if she were looking through actual lenses. The spell didn't really do anything that a real telescope couldn't do, except that it was more portable and easier to zoom or focus with. But it was hers' and that was reason enough to prefer it.

From her perch, she could see the spot where she defeated her first witch and spy on most of the park goers as they basked in the late afternoon sun. Kyuubey was up here with her for the weekly grief seed collection and today, she wanted to ask it an important question.

"Kyuubey," she said while tracking two boys who looked like they were into some forbidden love. "I know that familiars grow into witches and that witches birth familiars." The two boys held hands for a moment then let go. She smiled. "But it's got to start somewhere, right?There's got to be a beginning."

"You think you figured it out," it replied.

With a nod, she reached for her sketchbook and flipped through its pages. Carlie, Elisabeth, Maryna, Yvette. The gesture was for reassurance rather than recollection. "I've got a theory I'm not completely sure of. I was hoping you could help me fill in the gaps."

"Go on."

"Witches are born from great tragedy," she said. "Witches don't just spread nightmares. They live in one that's a memory of the past. A past when they were still people." She was sure of it. Infiltrating every maze meant that she had to understand their strange logic. And no matter how insane each witch and maze was, there was something distinctly human in them, something that she couldn't help but empathize with.

"You are correct," it confirmed after a long pause. "Witches were once people and a great tragedy is what transforms them."

She sighed in relief and snapped her sketchbook shut. "But so much tragedy happens everyday, which means that there would be more witches if it were that simple. Magic has to be part of it, doesn't it?"

It nodded. "Correct again. It is magic that lets the transformation take place."

"Then where does that magic come from? I only know two sources of magic: you and the Puella Magi." She paused to draw the strength for her accusation. "Kyuubey, do you turn people into witches?"

"I do not create witches directly. Puella Magi are the ones directly involved in the transformation."

"Have-" She gulped. "Have I created a witch?"

"No. You have not."

"So it has to be deliberate. Why do these Puella Magi do it, then? Is it to create more grief seeds for their soul gems?"

"Like every wish is different, so are the motivations of every Puella Magi."

Violet could only think of selfish reasons. She couldn't think of any scenario where she would want to turn a despairing person into a witch. "What should I do if I meet such a Puella Magi? Isn't such a person a traitor if our mission is to hunt witches?"

"Do are free to do as you wish," said Kyuubey, with a smile that said murder.

o o o

This familiar would be easy to dispatch. All of the maze's complexity was in the interwoven currents of wind that snaked through giant pinwheels and transported flocks of minions through the air. There were no anomalies to threaten her camouflage. Violet could have finished off the familiar much earlier, but she took her time so that she complete her notes on the maze.

At the moment, she was in the middle of sketching the minions. The creatures were nothing more than three pairs of bird wings attached to a feathery orb. They flew by flapping their wings and, sometimes, spinning their whole body in the air. Their movements were so frantic that it was hard to get a clear view. It had taken an hour of birdwatching before she got their body structure on paper.

Then, out of nowhere, her soul gem detected a new source of magic in the maze that radiated from where she had entered. Another witch or familiar! What was it doing here, though? Witches and familiars never went close to one another, even if one had birthed the other. And why was its magical signature so different from everything else she had seen before? How strange. How curious. She double-checked her camouflage and turned to a blank page on her sketchbook, ready to chronicle this new discovery as it came closer and closer to her position.

But when the source came into view, Violet gasped and shut her sketchbook. Another Puella Magi!

The outsider wore a deep red ball gown shaped like an overturned rose. The dress' skirt was layered like flower petals and was long enough to reach the floor. Around her wrist was a corsage that held her soul gem, which put out a muted red glow. On her head was a wide brimmed mother-of-the-bride hat made of gauzy material and decorated with ribbons. She was armed with a scythe whose curved blade was aligned with the shaft like an ordinary spear. She took one look at the sky to count her targets, but made no other move.

The flock of minions circled around her before they dove down in one coordinated strike.

Violet wanted to help. She really did. Instead, she froze in place and watched.

The outsider waited, still and serene. Then, she jumped. It looked silly at first, her leap didn't have the height to reach any of the minions. But at the apex of her jump, a ghostly set of butterfly wings appeared on her back. The wings flapped down and disappeared, flinging her upward so fast that her hat was left behind.

The minions didn't have time to disperse. When the she hurtled through the flock, she twisted in flight, sending her scythe blade through as much minions as possible. The flock braked and turned only to be victimized by the same attack from above. Right before the outsider hit the ground, one last flap of wings broke her fall. Its gust of wind sent her hat flying up. As it fell, she tapped it with the flat of her scythe blade and it landed perfectly on her head. The few surviving minions retreated back into the air and the outsider proceeded further into the maze.

So this was how other Puella Magi fought, thought Violet. She had expected the battle to be messy and brutal rather than this elegant aerial dance. The explosions of force she was capable of were so crude in comparison to this girl's fluttering. And that war scythe, unlike her daggers, had reach alongside its lethality. It was both amazing and humbling.

Violet trailed the outsider, glad that her camouflage worked just as well on a fellow Puella Magi's senses. Along the way, the flock followed the outsider and was reinforced as more minions arrived to join it. The flock was larger than than before. And this time, they scattered and surrounded her before diving.

The outsider couldn't use the same trick twice. She glimpsed at her corsage, sighed and raised it in the air. Her soul gem flashed green and vines grew from the flower around her wrist. They wrapped around her arm, traveled down her shoulder and spread until her upper body was encased in armor. Thorns rose outward from the vines to complete her defense.

The spell finished in time. The vanguard of the flock collided with her and was pulverized by the force of impact. The surprise was enough to make her lose her balance and stumble backward, but a split-second flap of butterfly wings restored her footing. She raised her scythe and prepared for the rest of the attack.

With swirling strikes, she cut up the next wave of minions before they could reach her. But when the flankers closed in, she was hit twice from the side and once in the back. She was prepared for the strikes, though, and weathered them without breaking her stance. She continued fending off the minions ahead of her and paid no heed to the ones hitting her from other directions.

Violet wondered if the armor was really that good. It couldn't be, or else the outsider wouldn't have bothered cutting down the bulk of enemies who attacked from the front. She was stalling for time, waiting for something to happen.

The flock of minions was at its thickest when the outsider decided to act. The vines unwrapped from around her body and whipped around her. In the space of a few seconds, the swarm of minions was nothing more than a cloud of feathers. The few lucky survivors broke off and flew away, leaving the outsider standing straight in the middle of the carnage, her corsage held up in the air while vines writhed around her. When she was sure the coast was clear, the vines dropped off from her corsage and fell, already wilting before they hit the ground. She stepped over the dead vines, her war scythe held firmly in both hands and proceeded toward the familiar.

Violet didn't know what to think of it. While her flying daggers could give similar results to what the outsider just did, she could sense that the vines didn't use up that much magic. What was a desperation move for Violet was just a standard technique for this Puella Magi. What else could this outsider do? What would she think of her stealthy style? The only way to find out was to continue observing.

The coast was clear to the familiar's chamber, which was just a nest in the middle of the pinwheel filled plain. When the outsider approached, a giant egg as large as she was jumped out and bobbed from side to side. The outsider cursed under her breath. "Ugh, familiar."

The egg cracked around the middle and the upper half of the eggshell floated in the hair. Inside was a smaller egg that jumped out. The floating eggshell closed and the smaller egg repeated the process. As the familiar multiplied, the outsider slowly walked backwards, avoiding sudden movements. She didn't make it far when the familiar and its copies attacked.

In this battle, the outsider held back. She used her scythe's dull edge and favored blunt strikes with her polearm's butt and shaft. All the while, her pivots, hops and steps brought her closer to the exit. Then, when one egg was stunned by a staff strike, she sprinkled the ground underneath with seeds that sprouted instantly. The vines that grew wrapped around the egg, immobilizing it. Flowers bloomed and sprayed a cloud of pollen, their purpose unknown to Violet. As the fight continued, more and more of the eggs got trapped as the outsider found openings to disable them. It should have been safe to finish them off now, but the outsider continued her retreat.

"What are you doing?!" shouted Violet under the silence of her cloak. "You're a Puella Magi! You're supposed to kill it! People will die if you leave it like this!"

She watched the mobile eggs ignore the outsider as they tried to free their comrades. The outsider would be gone by the time it finished.

"Why?" asked Violet.

The sight of the magical plants made the answer come to her. This Puella Magi was a gardener, a farmer. She wanted this familiar to grow and become a witch so she could harvest its grief seed. She was one of those Puella Magi who created witches. The thought angered her so much that Violet didn't really think about what she did next.

While still invisible, Violet went over to the ensnared eggs and cut them free with her dagger. The keen edge made it an easy task. One by one, the freed eggs bounded off after the outsider. She didn't bother following them. She would just wait here until the outsider fought the familiar again then finish it off once they returned, tired and weakened. Hopefully, the outsider wouldn't be prepared and would suffer a few deserved bites.

Instead, the maze just vanished. The outsider must have been caught by surprise and was forced to kill them all.

Violet switched her camouflage back to match the real world and spun around to look for the outsider. She found her crawling away on her stomach, leaving a thick trail of blood. "Serves you right," said Violet when she caught up and stood above her. Despite her superior position, Violet's hood was still up. She was still afraid of how the outsider might reply.

The outsider crawled a bit more then stopped and flipped on her back. Her injuries made Violet gasp. She looked like a dissection from science class. Her stomach was ripped and some pipe-looking organ protruded out. But worst of all was her soul gem, which was completely black.

The outsider looked up into the sky and smiled. Green shoots began to grow from the dirt around her. Some shoots grew straight from her flesh, tearing out of her pores. She laughed and smiled even if it looked painful. The sky shifted from night to day. The moon split and became twin suns.

Violet's cloak warned her that her camouflage wasn't working anymore, but that wasn't what scared her enough to hold her in place. The outsider's magical aura had changed. According to her soul gem, the Puella Magi was gone.

A witch was right in front of her.

o o o

When Kyuubey came the next morning, it found Violet curled up in bed. She held a grief seed to her soul gem, draining it slowly to keep her reserve of magic topped up. The excess magic was wasted as a bright violet light that filled the room. Thick curtains kept it from spilling out into the outside. On the floor lay five grief seeds, sucked dry from a night of panicked hysteria.

"You knew this whole time," she said, her voice cracking. "You knew everything but wouldn't tell me."

"You're taking this better than most Puella Magi," it replied. "Most cannot cope as well as you. They end up doing something they regret."

She picked up the depleted grief seeds and held them on her palm. It was silly how they always managed to stay upright. "You want these, don't you? That's why you always came back to visit me. This whole scam is because you want these things."

"It is true," replied Kyuubey.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not giving you these seeds until you tell me everything. And if you won't, I think I might just blow my whole stash up."

Kyuubey stared at her. She stared back and tried to match its smile.

"Very well," it said.

The alien told its story. It talked of entropy and history, the fate of the universe and the fate of humanity, the sacrifices of countless Puella Magi and the lives they saved and lost. At the end of it, Violet handed over the depleted seeds and the half-drained one in her hand.

"Take them," she said to the incubator. "My donation to the universe. I'm sure it's a good cause."

Its smile didn't change as it caught the prizes with the hatch on its back. "We appreciate this, Violet," it said. "All intelligent life does."

She said nothing as she lifted her soul gem up and stared at it.

"I hope you understand that both potential and existing Puella Magi cannot know of this," said the incubator. "It is healthier for them if they know much later or if they never find out at all. You yourself almost went over the edge with this knowledge."

"Who are you to decide?" asked Violet. "You did say that your kind can't understand us fully."

"I do my best based on empirical observations."

"I'll tell them. I'll find every other Puella Magi and tell them everything."

"As you wish," it said as it turned and walked away. "Let me warn you, though, that this has all happened before. The harsh truth often hastens their fall, which can disrupt our designed balance of witch and Puella Magi. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Violet mulled its words in her head, staring at her soul gem until the afterimage of its light was burned in her eyes. What did she want?

o o o

She named the outsider's witch Gertrud.

By now, Violet was so familiar with her magic signature that she could track it from across town. The beautiful rose gardens of her maze was a place she visited often, a place which felt almost as cozy as home. The moustached minions who worked to maintain the garden were charming in a way, as long as they weren't driven berzerk in battle or harvesting people to fertilize the plants and sustain their mistress. Violet tried capturing one once and, like roses picked from Gertrud's garden, it didn't last long outside the maze.

Today, Gertrud was compelling a police officer to shoot himself. Violet stood by to the side as the officer stared at loaded chambers of his revolver, thinking of all the ugliness he had seen and how nice the roses around him looked like.

"I think I know who you were," said Violet to the witch. The sound of her voice didn't leave her hood. "Another magical girl wanted more seeds for herself. She came to your town and drove you out. Because of the fancy way you fight, you didn't have any spare grief seeds, or maybe you used them all up when fighting the invader. So when you retreated and arrived here, you were running low on magic. You had no choice but to let the familiar go. You needed that seed when I had so much to give."

The officer loaded the cylinder, spun it and cocked the hammer. He stared at a rose and cried.

"No, that wasn't you," said Violet. "I saw you fight. You were too good to lose to someone else. There wasn't an invader. Instead, you fought so much witches until you finally saw how beautiful some of them were. Those were the ones you couldn't kill, so you just let them go. You became a gardener of emotion, pruning the more destructive witches and letting the better ones do as they wish. The world is more colorful with a bit of sadness, you decided. And so, you left your town because you wanted to show this to other Puella Magi. I should have stopped to listen to what you had to say. I would have understood."

The officer stuck the barrel in his mouth and fired. Violet flinched at the sound but didn't look away at the splash of blood as red as roses.

"No, that wasn't it," said Violet. "You had a friend, another Puella Magi who fought by your side. During a battle with a witch, she made a mistake and took a hit that no one could have survived. She didn't die immediately. You watched her slip away as you wished that you had wished for something that might have saved her life. Then, she turned into a witch that you couldn't bear to kill at first. Like me, you watched her and learned to love her despite what she had become. But in the end, you decided she had to die. You killed her and every familiar you could track down. Every familiar except the last. You couldn't kill the last one. If I had offered to help, I could have done it for you."

With no more despair to take after his death, Gertrud returned to tending her flowers. Already, new ones were beginning to grow.

"Who were you?!" Violet asked the witch. "I wish you could tell me. But you can't, of course. None or your copies talked back no matter what I did. You'll always be a dream too far." She drew her dagger.

She launched herself straight up into the air then created another burst that aimed her down to Gertrud's heart, through the unarmored top of the witch's cocoon. Gertrud didn't even have time to be aware of her death when the strike came. She died happy, looking at her flowers.

When the maze faded away, Violet picked up Gertrud's grief seed and attached it to the clasp of her cloak, right beside her soul gem.

o o o

Kyuubey sat on Violet's suitcase as they both waited for her train to arrive.

"I already have your replacement scouted out," said the incubator. "I think you would approve. She is an idealistic preacher's daughter who would relish the chance to protect others from witches."

"A preacher's daughter?" asked Violet through telepathy. She didn't wear her magical outfit today. Being visible made travelling with luggage more convenient. An illusion covered her face like a mask, just in case she bumped into someone who knew her. "Didn't the church close down a few months ago?"

Kyuubey nodded. "Her family is going through hard times because of that. Her wish will help improve their situation."

"Good for them, I suppose."

The sound of an arriving train interrupted the silence between them. It wasn't Violet's ride. Her train out of the city wasn't due for another half hour.

"Violet?" asked Kyuubey. "Are you considering telling this girl that she will eventually become a witch?"

"I won't. Someone needs to take care of the local witches while I'm gone."

"I am glad we could come to an understanding."

"Don't come to any conclusions just yet," she said. Her hand came up to her neck to grasp at where her soul gem and Gertrud's grief seed should have been, but found nothing to hold. "I won't interfere just yet because I don't know what to think about it. I don't trust you to give me a clear picture of how things are for other Puella Magi. I need to see them for myself."

"And yet, you burned everything in your apartment, as if you have no plans of returning."

"I didn't want anyone to see my drawings, okay?! They were unfinished. And if someone didn't know about witches, those pictures would really creep them out." She kicked her suitcase and the incubator wobbled. "Everything worth keeping is in here. I promise to come back. Be ready for it."

She thought of the ashes and smoke as the wind carried away the remnants of her loose sketches. Her witch book was the only remaining hardcopy of all her records.

"I count on it," said Kyuubey.

Violet fidgeted during the next few minutes of silence. There was nothing more to say, really. The current train began to leave and the station announced that Violet's train was next.

"Do not think this is goodbye," said Kyuubey as it hopped off her suitcase and walked away. "Expect to encounter copies of me or my associates in your travels."

It was too weird for her to imagine. "Goodbye, Kyuubey," she said. It seemed like the right thing to say.

When the incubator left her sight, she relaxed and let herself daydream while she waited. There was a world of Puella Magi out there, interesting people who could do wonders with unique magic. She couldn't wait to be surprised at the sights and, while it made her heart flutter, she was excited at how their meetings would turn out. Would she be seen as a knowledgeable mentor? A mysterious figure? A wise visionary?

Her train finally arrived. She carried her suitcase inside and, like many times before, she disappeared once more.

End Part Four

o o o

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	5. Chapter 5

The rolling hills where made of solid wood and covered with tiny mushrooms. Every step Violet made crushed mushrooms underfoot and released a small cloud of spores that lingered around her boots. As soon as she stepped away, new mushrooms regrew to replace the ruined ones. It made it tricky for her to move and maintain her camouflage at the same time. She had to leave glamours behind that would cover her footsteps and merge the image of the regrown fungus with how it used to look like.

Above was a twilight sky full of stars that burned with bright intensity. Lines of light connected the stars together to form constellations. Violet had no idea how the zodiac was supposed to look like, but she was quite sure that it wasn't like this. These were the witch's own constellations, the hopeless fate she had seen written in the sky.

Using her telescope spell, Violet watched another Puella Magi trek through the maze. Her subject was unaware that she was watched by both witch and fellow Magi.

The stranger wore a pair of dark blue skirted overalls over a short-sleeved shirt. Her white soul gem played the part of the left button on her chest. On her hands were light brown open-backed gloves that ended at the wrist. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that sat at the base of her neck. Her short boots were similar to Violet's.

She was armed with a crossbow, its luminous bowstring tensed and ready to release the loaded bolt. On her back was a crossbowman's pavise worn like a knapsack. The large shield was patterned with a collection of small, intricate symbols. There was a cyclone, a threaded needle, a circle centered with a single dot and many more Violet couldn't make out. The stranger walked on without encumbrance even if the pavise looked like it had the weight to match its sturdiness.

The stranger was halfway up a hill when the deep rumbling noise of an avalanche filled the air. She ran up the rest of the hill and saw the source of noise upon cresting the top. In the distance, five boulders made of spongy volcanic rock tumbled through the landscape toward her position, leaving a wake of spore clouds from the mushrooms they squashed. They moved at the exact same speed whether going uphill or downhill, as if they were travelling on flat ground.

The stranger took a short moment to survey the scene then decided to dig in. The pavise floated off her back, spun to face the enemy and struck the ground in front of her with a solid thud. The air in a small arc centered with the shield grew hazy with silvery light. She used her shield to steady her crossbow as she aimed then shot at the nearest rolling stone two hills away.

The bolt traveled almost instantaneously and left a trail of white light that made it look like a laser beam. The vacuum left by its flight pulled spores up from the ground to give the beam a smoky corona. The bolt hit its target dead center and the explosion of dirt and spores obscured the impact. Then, out of the dust, smaller bits of the stone rolled down the hillside with inherited momentum. They slowed upon reaching the bottom, no longer propelled by the witch's magic.

"One down, four to go," said Violet.

The stranger didn't follow through with a second attack just yet. She was stroking her crossbow, casting some sort of spell for the reloading process. If it took this long between shots, they would surely get to her in time.

"Just create a new loaded weapon," said Violet. "Don't you know how?" She didn't notice that the bolt the stranger conjured into her crossbow was forked at the tip.

Now that the weapon was loaded, the bowstring stretched back with a tension that glowed silver. Like before, the stranger steadied her crossbow on her pavise, took aim and released. Twin projectiles flew to her targets, leaving matching beams of light. Two boulders burst into rubble and dust.

Violet signed in relief but drew her dagger and ran towards the stranger. The last two minions were too close for the stranger to prepare an identical trick shot.

The stranger reloaded her weapon with a single swipe, but instead of shooting right away she took two steps back from her pavise and waited. The last two minions rolled up the hillside and crashed into the wall of light around her shield. The light repelled them and pushed them away into the air. The stranger shot at one of the boulders at the peak of its flight and it burst into pieces while still airborne. Falling rubble kicked up more spores.

She swiped her hand over her crossbow and shot at the last minion. Missed. The boulder had ignored gravity and stuck to the barrier instead of falling. She swiped again to reload and took aim at the floating target. With her eyes teary from the cloud of spores around her, she released. The last minion was dispatched.

Violet stopped in her tracks. "Nice," she said.

Unlike Violet, the stranger didn't celebrate just yet. She returned to the cover of her pavise and looked for threats in the distance as she reloaded her crossbow. The trails of spore clouds began to settle. No enemies came. Only then did she have her pavise hover and return to its place on her back.

With the barrier now gone, the remains of the witch's minion made its move.

A gray ooze that had pooled around the rubble formed into a tentacle and grabbed the stranger by the ankle to lift her up. She screamed in surprise as she fell backwards then yelped in pain when the back of her head slammed on the ground. She wasn't knocked out, but she was stupefied and choking on spores. Another tentacle whipped at her hand, causing her to drop her crossbow.

In the sky, a bright comet illuminated the scene. Now that its target was helpless, the witch was came down from from its perch.

Violet was too far to help with an accurate thrown dagger while remaining hidden. She could assist if she used more overt magic, but it would have ruined her camouflage. She could only curse as she closed the distance as quickly as she could while still maintaining stealth.

The stranger coughed and shook her head as she hung in the air. It was all she needed to recover. She stretched her arm out and a short sword materialized in her hand ("So you DO know how to conjure," said Violet). With it, she sliced at the tentacle holding her up. The sword tore through the appendage and she fell to the ground.

During that split-second of freefall, her pavise flew off her back and twisted in the air to face the ooze. The silver light of its barrier pushed the minion away and the pavise embedded itself on the ground with the same solid thud as before.

The stranger hit the ground with her upper back. The shock made her writhe in pain for a moment, but the sight of the comet witch through half-closed eyes gave her the will to pull through. She left her sword and stumbled towards her crossbow, ignoring the ooze pounding on the barrier of her pavise.

Her crossbow was loaded. The tension in the bowstring made the weapon creak in eagerness. Wielding it gave her body a reassuring hum that overrode the pain. She stood straight, breathed deep and aimed at the falling star. From head to toe, her pose was perfectly aligned to point her bolt to the witch.

She released. The bolt went straight through the comet and left a trail of light that went forever into the sky.

The witch and its maze faded away and the ghostly image of the comet passed harmlessly through the stranger. Its grief seed struck the ground in front of her and balanced on its tip. Only then did she allow herself to relax and exhale in relief.

Violet came to the stranger's side, still invisible, and clapped. "That was so cool," she said with a smile.

The stranger picked up the grief seed and held it to her eye to examine the witch's symbol. Then, she waved her hand and had her pavise float in the air in front of her. She traced a finger on the shield's illustration and copied the symbol from the grief seed. This latest addition, a yellow comet, was her twenty-second kill marking. It sat above a pair of pink cherubs and beside bottled lighting.

"I think we'll get along just fine," said Violet. She took out her notebook and added the finishing touches to the witch's record. Annele sounded about right. Annele, the comet witch. Her nature is opportunism. Only sight of vulnerability lures her out of hiding. But once she and her minions attack, they are as committed as the fate written in the stars.

Then, Violet turned to the last page of her notebook and began a new entry. Honami, the shielded Puella Magi. Her nature is serenity. She will stay cool despite all danger. Her weapons are treated with care and she will never abandon them without good reason.

o o o

Violet watched Honami's eyes as she sat with her friends and browsed the cake shop's menu.

"You just can't shake that habit, can you?" said Violet. "You check the price before even looking at the item." No one heard the hidden Puella Magi.

"Oh, this one sounds delicious," said one of Honami's friends.

Honami flicked her eyes to the picture and description on the menu. "Yeah, that sounds good." Her eyes returned to the price. "Want to share it?"

Violet giggled at the girl's ingrained frugality.

"Huh?" said her friend.

"So we could get something else," said Honami. "That way, we try out two cakes."

"That's a great idea! I also want this one with kiwis in it. Deal?"

"Sure," said Honami.

"Nice save," said Violet.

The circle of friends made their orders and conversed as they waited. They talked about music, classmates and news. At the mention of a party next month, two of them brought out leather bound schedulers.

"You chose your new friends carefully," said Violet. "She's the track and field captain, she's an editor for well-visited blog and he's the manager for the most talented school band. But while they're your friends, you find them soft from their affluence just like everyone else at school. You think they don't know real sacrifice."

The group erupted in laughter and Honami joined them a fraction of a second later. It was a genuine laugh, Violet could tell, not a fake one for the sake of belonging. She just had too much on her mind to fully keep up with the banter.

"But these friends are different from the rest because they try," continued Violet. "Unlike the others who are content to relax like this every day, they have the drive to be something more. You don't just respect that, you want to learn from it."

Their orders arrived, three slices of cake with drinks to match and a sugarless smoothie for the athlete in the group. Honami blushed as she reached over to try out a slice of the one with kiwis. They talked about how this place was better than so and so and how it was worse than another. Honami remarked that it was the cheapest here.

"You want to learn how they balance comfort and commitment," said Violet, "how they know how much cakes to eat without spoiling themselves and becoming complacent. Before you met them, you thought you could do that only by sticking to your old ways. By taking the subway and long walks. By never buying anything without a practical use. By choosing to use more efficient magical bolts and never discarding your magical weapons."

"Excuse me," said Honami. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Violet walked ahead of Honami and entered the women's room before the girl went inside and locked the door. In an upscale place like this, there was enough room for the two of them even if there was only one toilet. Violet didn't look away.

"And your underwear's as plain and white as it's always been," said Violet with a smile.

o o o

Violet followed Honami all Saturday morning. Her subject had woken up early to hunt for witches and, after quickly dispatching one, returned home for a break. While Honami went to the kitchen for a drink and a snack, Violet went straight to Honami's bedroom and waited.

Okay. It was time. All her information gathering lead up to this point. It was time to finally appear and exist once more.

Honami entered her room and stretched. No one else came in. Perfect. Right as she went towards her computer, Violet made her move. She took off the hood of her cloak and wove an illusion that let her image fade in gently.

"Honami," she said, her voice carrying through the air since the longest time. "I'm Violet. A Puella Magi from another city." She bowed in respect and shivered as she bent back up.

The shock on Honami's face only lasted a blink. She took a step back and smiled at Violet. "Hello, Violet. What brings you here?" Her eyes scanned the stranger in her room and lingered just a bit too long on the grief seed that hung beside her soul gem. "Would you like me to get you something? Tea? A snack?"

Violet shook her head frantically. "Oh, no! Don't call anyone! I mean, no thanks. I just want to talk."

"Alright then. Make yourself at home. Have a seat." Honami gestured to offer Violet her bed. Then, with her arms to her side and her palms facing outward, she transformed into her armor. Gloves, coveralls, soul gem, pavise. Otherwise, she was unarmed. Her shield flew from her back and landed in front of the door to her room, barring it. With calm, steady steps, she walked to the chair by her desk and sat, facing Violet. "What do you want to talk about?"

Violet hadn't moved from her spot. She blinked, saw Honami waiting, then blushed and sat down on the bed. "I-" I've been watching you for quite a while and I think you're a strong person who can handle the truth. You need to know something important about witches.

Honami waited with a welcoming smile. Or was it a condescending one, thought Violet. Did she think Violet was just some nervous rookie asking for advice? Would she take Violet seriously? No, the old script wouldn't do.

"My wish," said Violet, finally. "Lets me to turn invisible and create illusions. For the past week and more, I've used it to follow you everywhere to see what kind of person you are."

Honami frowned. "What exactly did you see?" She shifted in her seat, tense, and her eyes drifted to the grief seed at Violet's neck.

What did she think of Gertrud's seed, thought Violet. Does she think it's a trophy? A part of a spell? A fashion statement? She gripped the seed and spoke. "This grief seed came from a Puella Magi. Um, I don't mean it was given to me or I stole it. I mean it came from her soul gem. She turned into a witch because she ran out of magic."

Honami's frown faded into an expression Violet couldn't read. Was there some sadness there? Why would she be said? Honami watched Violet closely as her pavise floated gently from the door to a spot in front and to the side of her. The pavise didn't block their line of sight to each other, but the silver barrier of light would be between them if activated.

"You watched me sleep?" asked Honami. "You watched me change? Did you even watch me when-" She stood up and crossed her arms.

"Did you even hear what I said about witches?" said Violet. She stood so their eyes would be at the same level. "I saw everything, yes. But that doesn't matter! And I don't think less of you for anything I saw. You're a great Puella Magi."

Honami walked up to her pavise so that half her body was covered by the shield. "Violet, please don't panic for what I'm about to say." She paused to let the words sink in. "I think you're crazy."

It was Violet's turn to frown.

"Now, calm down," said Honami. "I want to help you." It sounded like she was talking to a child. No, not even. Maybe a dog. "But I can't do that while you're ready to fight like that. I need you to transform back to normal, okay? Transform and give me your soul gem."

"I'm not crazy," said Violet.

"You followed another girl around for days and violated her privacy without any regrets. They call that stalking," replied Honami in the same sugared voice. "And it's not a sign of mental health."

"My tactics works just fine on witches! I need to stalk them so I can understand how they think so my illusions can fool them perfectly. It's who I am! It's my wish!"

"You've been with witches for far too long. Don't worry. We can talk all about it if you'd just transform and give me your soul gem. Besides, if you really think I'm a great Puella Magi, then you should know I wouldn't hurt you."

"I-" Violet thought about the offer. The Honami she observed really wouldn't hurt her. But she hadn't expected their meeting to turn out like this. There might be something that she hadn't figured out. "I-" And if it all went wrong, then Violet would be without her cloak. She would lose her wish. "I can't."

"I'm sorry," said Honami. "But you have to do it." She raised her hand from behind her pavise. Her crossbow was ready, conjured from behind the shield where Violet couldn't see. "If I let you go, you could use your illusions to stick around. I wouldn't be able to stop you if you do something crazy. I need to help you now, while I can still see you."

"No." Violet shook her head. "Just let me go. I promise to disappear." But she knew her plea would be ignored. She could sense the intent in Honami's slow movements. The other Puella Magi was getting ready to shoot.

"Think about it, Violet. Wouldn't you feel violated if you knew someone was always watching you?" asked Honami.

Violet raised her hood to turn invisible and hopped to the side, seamlessly leaving an illusionary double in her place. "No," Violet made her double say. "I think I would like it if someone else knew everything there was to know about me."

Honami sighed. Then, after a pause, "I can be that person. Just give me your soul gem."

"I told you, I can't."

"Then, again, I apologize." Honami released a bolt at Violet's double.

Violet was ready for it. She made her double fall to its knees and bleed from the wound. "Why?" choked the double through blood coming out of its mouth.

"Why!" asked Violet with a scream silenced by her cloak. She ran towards her target, approaching from the side unprotected by the pavise.

"Violet," said Honami calmly. "You used the wrong illusion. That wasn't a lethal bolt. I told you I don't want to hurt you." The silver light of the shield's barrier illuminated the room and the shield spun to the opening that Violet was going for.

The barrier hit Violet head on. She flew backwards and hit the wall but had just enough awareness to dull the sound of her impact to hide her position.

Honami conjured up her short sword and made a circular swipe around herself with the flat of the blade. Then, assured that her surroundings were clear, she threw the sword to the ground and shot a bolt in Violet's general direction. It impacted right beside where Violet had landed on the floor, close for a blind shot. Honami reloaded her crossbow with a swipe.

Then, the door to Honami's room opened and her mother stepped in. Honami's reflexes were good. She spun around and shot at the person flanking her. Like before, the bolt was calibrated to stun a Puella Magi. But on a normal human, it was lethal. The concussion turned the insides of its target to jelly. Her mother managed to put on a look of confusion before collapsing to the floor.

Honami shouted before Violet could act. "You sick witch! Of all the horrible illusions-"

The guilt made Violet's hand go as far as to hold her hood and almost pull it off. Instead, she stayed hidden and created another double of herself at a distance. "It was real," she made her double say. "It- It was an accident. Please, I'm sorry." She forced her hand down from her hood and made it grip the grief seed that hung beside it.

Honami shook her head. "Shut up with your lies." Instead of going through the motions of reloading her crossbow, she threw it to the side, conjured another in her hands and shot at Violet's illusion. The bolt went right through. Violet didn't bother to simulate the damage. "It has to be an illusion!" said Honami with a glance at her mother's corpse. "It has to be!" She threw her crossbow away and conjured two of them, one in each hand. The tip of their bolts ended in a star.

Violet wasn't ready for this special ammunition. When Honami shot both crossbows, the bolts split into multiple flechettes that peppered her room. Three hit Violet. The flares of pain told her that these were no longer meant to stun.

Honami dropped the crossbows and conjured another pair. This time, she angled her shots towards the side, away from where Violet actually was. None of the projectiles hit Violet, giving her some breathing room to act.

She hopped over to the closet and used magically augmented strength to topple it. An illusion hid the fact that it had moved, but the Honami was sharp enough to feel the thud on the wood floor. She shot another set of flechettes towards Violet, but all hit the heavy furniture and were too weak to penetrate. It took all of Violet's concentration to maintain the illusion that neither her nor her cover were there.

Violet's double still stood at the center of the room. "Please, stop!" Violet made it say.

Honami didn't respond, she shot her pair of crossbows with her arms stretched to the side. She shot behind her, at the ceiling and in random directions. Some flechettes hit her mother's corpse. "Show yourself!" she shouted before deliberately shooting at her mother's corpse. "Remove your lies!" Her soul gem flickered then began to dim. "Mom, I'm sorry," she said. "It was all her fault! I didn't mean to hit you!"

Violet was safe in her hiding place. She had no plan except to wait until there was an opening for her to escape. But when she detected the change of magic in Honami's soul gem, she was driven to action. She wove an illusion around Honami's dead mother and made it rise. "You disappoint me, daughter," she made the illusionary ghost say. "You should never have lost control." It was the meanest thing she could think of and the only thing she could hope to distract her opponent with.

"No," cried Honami. She pointed her crossbows at the illusion but didn't release.

Violet jumped over the overturned closet and dashed around the pavise's silver barrier. Her wounds almost made her stumble.

"I could have forgiven you the first time," said the ghost. "And yet, you shot me again. Do you hate me that much? Do you despise me for bringing you into a life that could only be salvaged with your wish?"

"No." Then, with a smaller voice. "I don't." Her soul gem stopped glowing.

Violet was behind her target. Only by riding the adrenaline and shutting down her mind could she continue with the horrible thing she was about to do. She swept Honami's feet from behind, sending her victim falling backward. Then, with an underhanded grip, she stabbed at the blackish soul gem on Honami's chest. The dagger went through and pierced through the Puella Magi.

The gem shattered and it was over. Nothing changed or faded away. This was real life, not a witch's maze. The corpses were still there, along with the debris of the battle.

Tears streamed from Violet's face and she had to stop herself from further stabbing Honami's body or her own in anger. Her only solace came from her cloak's reassurance. She was hidden. All the witnesses were dead. No one one would ever know what had happened here.

That thought made her less upset.

And it made her cry even harder.

o o o

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, Violet looked up from the Puella Magi's corpse and found Kyuubey staring at her.

"You soul gem is dark," it said.

She looked down at the clasp of her cloak and saw that the glow of her gem almost mirrored the blackness of Gertrud's grief seed. "So it is," she said. She retrieved an old seed from a pouch inside her cloak and placed it on her soul gem.

"You do not have to do that," said Kyuubey. "If you wanted to, you could simply let your magic drain away. End it all and become a witch. The energy generated would be magnificent."

Violet pulled the grief seed away and managed to smile. Magnificent, it had said. Magnificent. But after some thought, she placed the seed back to touch her soul gem. "Not yet," she said. "Maybe some other day, but not just yet. Today was just a mistake."

"In the meantime, I urge you not to destroy any more soul gems. A Puella Magi's death is meaningless if we cannot collect the energy from her transition into a witch."

"I-" And just like that, she was at rock bottom again. "She was-" She stood up and backed out until she hit a wall. "You're right," she said with her eyes closed. "I won't do it again." She tossed the depleted grief seed at the incubator. "What now?"

"I will make sure to cover this up. You can get going, I do not need your assistance."

Violet nodded and headed for the door, but the corpse of Honami's mother blocked her way with a wall of guilt. She looked back at Kyuubey. "Kyuubey, I-" She looked back at the corpse. "Nevermind." She stepped over the dead body and ran out of the house as fast as she could.

End Part Five

o o o

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End file.
